^ 




"O Apple! Come down to me." (See Page 7.) 



IN THE CHILD'S WORLD 



MORNING TALKS AND STORIES 



FOR 



Kindergartens, Primary Schools and Homes 



By EMILIE POULSSON 
Author of "Nursery Finger Plays" 



Illustrations by l. J. Bridgman 



SPRINGFIELD, MASS. 

Milton Bradley Company 

1893 






^ 



0, 



\ \ 



COPYRIGHT 1893. 

MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY, 
Springfield, Mass. 



Vt 



CLARK W. BRYAN CO., Printers 

SPRINGFIELD, MASS. 



The contributors to this volume have been so cordially helpful, that 
it gives me pleasure to record here my sincere thanks and appreciation. 
For kind permission to use stories and poems specified elsewhere in 
the book, grateful acknowledgments are also rendered to the following 
publishers: — 

Houghton, Mifflin ife Co.. Boston; The Century Co., Xew York; 
Youth's Companion, Boston; D. C. Heath & Co., Boston; Henry Holt & 
Co., Xew York; Harper Brothers, New York; The Kindergarten Pub- 
lishing Co., Chicago; The Educational Publishing Co., Boston; The 
Charles Foster Publishing Co.. Philadelphia; The University Publish- 
ing Co., New York; The Sunday School Association, London. 

Emilie Poui.sson. 



CONTENTS. 



Fruits ^ 

The Sleeping Apple, From the German. 
Wait and see, Josephine Jarvis. 

Birds in Autumn 11 

Lisa and the Birds, E. P. 

The Crane Express, Holmes^ Third Reader. 

Bird Thoughts. 

Wood 17 

The Logging Camp, Josephine Jarvis. 
The Honest Woodman, Retold by E. P. 

The Carpenter 25 

Little Deeds of Kindness, E. P. 
An Old-fashioned Rhyme, E. P. 

The Clock • 33 

What the Clock Told Dolly, Minnie G. Clark. 
The Discontented Pendulum, Jane Taylor. 

Autumn '^5 

The Baby Buds' Winter Clothes, Josephine Jarvis. 
An Autumn Song, E. P. 
The Kind Old Oak, ''Little Flower Folks." 
The Chestnut Boys, Helen Towne. 

Seeds . 51 

Five Peas in a Pod, Hans Christian Andersen. 

Psyche's Task, F. H. 

Apple-Seed John, Lydia Maria Child. 

The Wind > - 62 

How West Wind Helped Dandelion, E. P. 

The Dandelion Cycle, E. P. 

Odysseus and the Bag of Winds, F. H. 

North Wind at Play, From the German, as toldby Harriet Ryan. 



VIU COXTEN'IS. 

9. The Pigeons 73 

The Fantail Pigeon, Mary Dendy. 
Pearl and Her Pigeons, Helen Keller. 
The Constant Dove, Celia Thaxter. 
The Dove and the Ant, ^sop. 
A True Pigeon Story, M. P. 

10. The Bakek 82 

The Jolinny Cake. 
The China Rabbit Family, E. P. 
Teddy's Birthday Cake, E. P. 
Nero at the Bakery, E. P. 

11. Thanksgiving Day 90 

A Boston Thanksgiving Story, E. P. 
How Patty Gave Thanks, E. P. 

12. Winter .98 

The Thrifty Squirrels, Mary Dendy. 
Jack Frost and His Work, E. P. 

13. The Floweh Basket, or Loving and Giving . . , 106 

Little Servants, Sidney Dayre. 
Extract from the Dream of Little Christel, 
The Wake Up Story, Eudora Bumstead. 
The Go Sleep Story, Eudora Bumatead. 

l\. ClIlilSTMAS 117 

Christmas in the Barn, Frances Arnstein. 
Santa Claus and the Mouse, E. P. 
The Birds' Christmas, F. E. Mann. 
Piccola, Celia Thaxter. 

1.5. The New Year 131 

An AU-the-Year-Round Story, E. P. 
The Fairy's New Year Gift, E. P. 

16. The Cat 140 

My Jet, M. V. GilLin. 

A Kitten Rhyme, E. P. 

Spotty' s Family, Josephine Jarvis. 

17. The Horse 148 

A Wise Old Horse, " Nursery Stories.^' 

Pegasus, F. H. 

The Horse that Fed His Friend, " St. Nicholas.'' 

18. The Cow I.57 

The Story the Milk Told Me, Gertrude H. Noye^. 



CONTENTS. IX 



The Cow that Lost Her Tail, E. Knatchbull-Hugessen. 
Lord Cornwallis' Knee-buckles, Holmes^ Third Reader. 

19. The Dog 174 

How Frisk Came Home, '^Nursery Stories.'^ 
Cleverness of a Sheep Dog, " Little Folks.^' 
The Dog and the Kitten. 
A True Story of a Dog. 

20. The Cobbler 181 

Goody Two Shoes, Retold by E. P. 

Seeing Shoes Made, Josephine Jarvis. 

The Cobbler and the Children, Josephine Jarvis. 

21. St. Valentine's Day 191 

Philip's Valentine, E. P. 

22. Washington's Birthday 197 

23. The Blacksmith 201 

Nahum Prince, E. E. Hale. 
Vulcan, the Mighty Smith, F. H. 

24. The Miner 209 

Suggestions, A Kindergartner. 
The Golden Touch, E. P. 
Coal, Helen Keller. 

25. Water, I 216 

To Whom shall We Give Thanks? 

Snowflakes, Josephine Jarvis. 

The Immortal Fountain, Lydia Maria Child. 

26. Water, II 227 

Stony and Rocky, Annie E. Allen. 

The Little Hero of Haarlem. 

Do What You Can. 

Neptune, F. H. 

The Brook and the Water Wheel, Charles Foster. 

27. Fishes 239 

The Minnow's Adventure, E. P. 
Mr. Stickleback, E. P. 

28. Trees 253 

The Four Apple Trees, E. P. 

The Story of Echo, F. H. 

The Tree, B. Bjornsen. 

The Maple Tree's Surprise, F. E. Mann. 

Pussy Willow, Kate L. Broxon. 



CONTENTS. 



29. Spring 263 

Spring and Her Helpers, E. P. 

The Meeting of the Winds, Charles Foster. 

The Little Worm that was Glad to be Alive, Elizabeth Peabody. 

A Surprise, Sue Clark Kimball. 

30. Friedbich FRffiBEL 276 

Song for Frffibel's Birthday, E. P. 

31. Birds 282 

Jack and Jenny Sparrow, Charles Foster. 
Little Yellow-wing. 
Child and Bird, William Allingham. 
The Sandpipei-s, Josephine Jarvis. 

32. Birds' Nests , . . 292 

The Scarecrow, Celia Thaxter. 
The Nest of Many Colors, E. P. 
The Sparrow's Nest, Mary Howitt. 

33. The Butterfly , , , . 302 

Some Common Butterflies. 

A Lesson on Faith, iLirynret Gatty. 

34. The Caterpillar . ...» ... . 313 

"Such a Beauty," E. P. 

3.0. The Farmer ... 321 

A Barn-yard Talk, E. P. 

The Farmer and the Birds, Josephine Jarvis. 

Little Gustava, Celia Thaxter. 

36. The Hen and Chickens ........ 331 

The Lost Chicken, E. P. 

Pe-Wee's Lesson, " Stories for the Kindergarten and the Home." 

The Story of Speckle, E. P. 

37. The Bee, I 3-w 

The Rhyme of the Little Idle Boy, E. P. 
Edith and the Bees, Helen Keller. 

38. The Bee, II ... 352 

A Narrow Escape, Maurice Noel. 
Solomon and the Bees, J. G. Saxe. 
Mrs. Flyaway, Ada Cook. 

39. FLfsWERS ... • • ■ • 366 

What They Did. 

The Plant Household, E. P 



CONTENTS. 



Clytie, F. H. 

The Indian Legend of the Arbutus, C. E. Belknap. 

The Little Plant, Kate L. Brown. 

40. Summer 379 

How the Beans Came Up, F. E. Mann. 
Mabel on Midsummer Day, Mary Howitt. 
The Story of a Breeze, Mattie McRoy. 

41. Su>si]iXE . 3f>3 

The Wind and the Sun, Retold by E. P. 

The Sunbeams, E. P. 

The Story of the Morning-glory Seed, Margaret Eytinge. 

The Water-bloom, Celia Thaxter. 

42. The Moon and the Stars 401 

Linda and the Lights, E. P. 

43. The Weaver 407 

A Visit to the Weaver, Josephine Jarvis. 
John' s Trousers, Josephine Jarvis. 

44. Wcoi 41:! 

How the Little Boy Got a New Shirt, Fromthe German. 

Translated by Louise Stuart. 
Molly's Lamb, " Stories for the Kindergarten and the Home.'^ 
Sequel to an Old Story, E. P. 

45. Cotton 420 

Machinery Magic, Holmes' Third Reader. 
Cotton Field Stories, E. P. 

4G. Linen 426 

The Flax, Hans Chri.'itian Andersen. 
The Flax Flower, Mary Howitt. 

47. Sii.K 434 

The Life of a Silk Worm, Nettie Fleming. 

The Silk Worm, Mary Howitt. 

The Goddess of the Silk Worm, E. P. 



PREFACE. 



The preparation of these talks and stories was first under- 
taken for the kindergartens of Boston and vicinity. 

With the talks especially, great freedom in the use of the 
material offered was always urged as essential to good results, 
and such freedom is urged more than ever, in submitting the 
collection to a wider circle of teachers and children. 

The subjects follow, somewhat, the course of the kindergarten 
year, but selection must be exercised, since there is often under 
one subject more than enough for two weeks' work with tlie 
children. 

The book is in no wise intended as a one-year programme. 

Accuracy of fact has been assiduously sought, and in view of 
the pains taken, and the authorities consulted, is believed to have 
been obtained. Should errors be found, however, notice of them 
would be gratefully received. 

Reading, more or less closely related to the subject, has been 
suggested in the hope that the lists will prove a convenience to 
the teacher and tempt her to avail herself of the refreshment and 
inspiration which poet, philosopher, scientist and story-teller are 
ready to give. 

While most of the stories in the book are for children of the 
kindergarten age, whether at home, in the kindergarten, or in the 
lower grades of the primary school, a few stories are intended 
expressly for older children. 

Stories of nature and child-life, of history and of mythology, 
have all found place, for, as the best educators tell us, all these 
kinds are necessary for the symmetrical development of the facu^- 



VI V PREFACE. 

ties. Like the talks, the stories are concerning those objects, 
activities, festivals, etc., whicli belong in the child's world, those 
with which he is in actual contact or has some relation, and of 
which he is eager to talk and to hear. 

Whatever the kind of story, its spirit and influence have been 
the paramount considerations. 

" I have indited tliee, with care and love, 
My little book; and now I send thee forth 
On a good mission, 
In sweet homes to be a loving guest. 
And find a place in many a guileless heart," 

" Go little book, and to the young and kind 
Speak thou of pleasant hours and lovely things." 

Emilik Poulsson. 

Bogton, Mass., 1893. 



*' Go, forth, with serious style or jjlayful grace 
Winning young gentle hearts; and bid them trace 
With thee the Spirit of Love, through earth and air, 
On beast and bird, and on our mortal race. 
Go forth, 

And greet thou those who love thee, in my name, 
Tea, greet them warmly ! 

Little book, adieu!'" 




FRUITS. 



To THE Teacher: — 

Though this talk is more upon the apple tlian upon fruits in oreneral^ 
it is better, for tlie sake of comparison, tliat the teacher should have, 
besides apples, a pear, peach, plum and grapes and other fruits, as con- 
venient. The best illustrative object would be a small branch bearing 
both fruit and leaves. A colored picture of the apple blossom will also 
be needed. 

Let the children first name the fruits as you hold them up one by one. 
Question regarding the colors. Let some of the children distinguish 
the fruits by touch alone, following this test with questions upon the- 
shapes. Contrast the velvety skin of the peach with the smooth skin of 
the apple and pear. 

Let other children name the fruits by the sense of smell, and others 
by the sense of taste, either now or later, during the games, or at 
lunch time. 

Take care that each of these exercises is profitable, requiring the child 
to discriminate by the one sense alone. 



IN THE CHILD'S WORLD. 



THE TALK. 

Where did the fruits come from? (If the children get beyond 
*' the fruit stand" and give the general answer "from the 
trees," lead them to notice that each kind of fruit comes from 
its own kind of tree. ) 

Do you think it takes the apple tree a long time to get the 
apples ready? Indeed it does, a long, long time. Some of the 
older children who were in kindergarten last year may remember 
the apple blossoms we saw in the springtime. (Show picture of 
apple blossom.) 

When the pretty pink and white petals dropped off the stem, 
there was a tiny, hard, green knob at the end of it, and all the 
spring and all the summer this little green knob grew and grew 
and grew. Finally, late in the summer or in autumn, the ap])le 
was full-grown and ripe. (A series of quick drawings, showing 
the gradual enlargement of the growing apple, will interest and 
impress the children, if done in a spirited manner. The first 
figures of the series could be drawn with green crayon and the 
later ones with red and yellow, or whatever would best represent 
the ripe apple which you have shown them.) 

What helped the tree to make its apples? The earth and the 
air, the sunshine and the rain, — nothing can grow without them. 

Of what use are fruits? They are very good to eat and very 
wholesome when ripe and fresh, or when nicely cooked. Insects, 
worms and birds make many a delicious feast upon them, and 
even the larger animals enjoy them, too, sometimes. 

I was crossing a field the other day, with a lady, when two 
cows walked straight to her. " Oh, yes ! " said the lady, ''you 
want some apples, don't you?" Then she explained to me that 
she had once given these two cows some apples and that they 
had since come to her every time she crossed the field, evidently' 
expecting to be treated to fruit. 



IN" THE CHILD S WORLD. 



What do you find inside the apple when you eat it? What in 
the pear? peach? plum? grape? (Let a child cut an apple in 
halves vertically, and another child cut a second apple horizon- 
tally, and do the same with two pears.) How many seeds in the 
apple? in the pear? Are the seeds of any use? Look at the 
apple seeds. What a shiny brown color they are and how small ! 
Yet each seed, if planted and cared for rightly, would grow to 
be a tree some day — a tree with roots and trunk and branches 
and leaves, and with spring blossoms and autumn fruits. 

Are they not useful and wonderful, then, these little brown 
seeds? Would you like to have a baby apple tree growing in 
the kindergarten? What shall we do, then? (It will be well to 
plant several, to ensure the desired result.) 



IN THE CHILD S WORLD. 



TEACHER'S READING. 



How Plants Grow, .-..---- Gray 

Flower and Fruit, - - - - - Jane II. Newell 

Systematic Science, 

Edw. G. Howe, in Kindergarten Magazine, May and June, 1891 
Apples, ------- George W. Curtii. 

The Apple ("Winter Sunshine"), - - - ^ Burroughs 

Forest Trees and Wild Apples, 

Thoreau, in No. 27 of Riverside Literature Series 
The Planting of the Apple Tree, - - . - - Bryant 

The Fruit Gift, .--.-- Whittier 

Cellar Scene (-'Bitter Sweet"), - _ - J.G.Holland 

To Autumn, --..-. Keats 
The Orchard Lands of Long Ago, • James Whitcomb Riley 

August (" There Were Four Apples on the Bough "), - Sivinburne 

August, _---..- Edwin Arnold 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

The Nut Gatherers, i -^. , ' ., 

} • _ .. . Kindergarten Gems 

The Four Peaches, ) 



IN Till': CHILD S WOK LI). 



STORIES. 

THE SLEP]PING APPLE. 

{From the German.) 

High up in a tree, among the green leaves, hung a little apple 
with such rosy cheeks it looked as though it might be sleeping. 
A little child came near, and standing under its branches, she 
looked up and called to the apple: " O apple I come to me: do 
come down to me ! you do not need to sleep so long." 

She called so long and begged so hard, but the apple did not 
waken; it did not move in its bed, but looked as though it was 
laughing at her in its sleep. 

Then came the bright sun; high in the heavens he shone. 
"0 Sun I lovely Sun I" said the child, ''please waken the 
apple for me." The sun said: " 0, yes ; with pleasure I will.'* 
So he sent his bright beams straight in the face of the apple and 
kissed it kindly, but the apple did not move a bit. 

Then there came a l)ird, and perched upon a bough of the 
tree and sang a beautiful song, but even that did not waken the 
sleeping apple. x\nd what comes now! "1 know," said the 
child, " he will not kiss the apple — and he cannot sing to it, he 
will try another way." Sure enough, the wind putted out his 
cheeks and blew and l)le\v, and shook the tree, and the little 
apple was so frightened tliat it awoke and jumj)ed down from the 
tree and fell right in the apron of the little child. She was much 
surprised, and so glad that she said to him, " I thank you very 
much, Mr. Wind." 

Lizzie Willis. 

"Kinderffcu/tn .Var/azine." 



WAIT AND SEE. 

A baby beech tree was growing by the side of its mother. It 
said to her one day, " Mother, I wisli I knew of what use I can 
be in the world. There is Neighbor Oak who throws down 
acorns for our master's pigs to eat. Neighbor Birch gives him 



S IN THE child's WORLD. 

some .smooth bark to make iiito a boat. Neighbor Spruce gives 
him gum to pour over tiie joinings of the boat to keep it from 
leaking, and all the others can help in some way; but what can 
I do?" '' Wait and see," said the mother tree. So the little 
tree waited. 

By and by some pretty flowers shaped like this (showing 
flowers or a picture of some flowers resembling the blossoms of 
the beecli) came upon the baby tree. Then the little tree was 
happy. " Oh I " it said, '' now I see what good I can do. I can 
please our master by looking pretty." 

When the blossoms fell off, the poor little tree felt badly. 
*' mother!" it said, "all my pretty flowers are gone, and 
now I cannot even look pretty any longer. What shall I do?" 
"Wait and see," said the mother tree. The little tree thought 
that waiting was a hard thing to do, but it said to itself, 
" Mother knows best, so I'll do what she says." 

After a while some little green prickly things came where the 
flowers had been. These pleased the little tree as much as the 
flowers had done, and it was content to wait, and see if they 
were of any use except to look pretty. 

Then the little green prickly things all turned brown, and 
the little beech tree thought they were not pretty any longer. 
" Oh, dear ! mother," it said, " my little green prickly things 
have all turned brown, and now I cannot even look })retty any 
longer. What shall I do?" " Wait and see,'' said the mother 
tree. So the little tree waited. 

The autumn had come, and the weather was beginning to be 
cold in the part of the country where the little beech tree lived. 
One morning after a heavy frost, the little beech tree found that 
its little brown prickly things had all fallen. "0 mother!" 
it said, " there are my little ])rickly tilings on the ground, and 
now I am sure I shall never be of any use to anybody." " Do 
not be discouraged yet; wait and see," said the mother tree. 

Just then the muster's cliildren came along. They had bas- 
kets in their hands, for they were going to pick up nuts in the 
woods. As they came under the baby beech, the eldest boy 
?toi)ped. " children ! See ! " he cried, " here are the beech 



IN THE child's WORLD. 9 

mits on the ground. Mother likes them better than any other 
kind of nuts. Let us pick them all up and take them home 
to her." 

As the children went away with the nuts, the mother tree 
said, "Now, my dear, you see what good you can do." "Yes, 
mother," said the little tree. And ever after it was content, 
even when it grew to be a big tree — as big as its mother. 

Josephine Jakvis. 
Cohden, III. 




Bh:ds. 



BIRDS IN AUTUMN. 



To THE Teachei:: — 

A closer study of birds and bird-life will be advisable in the spring; 
when we welcome the little travelers back. By that time the children 
will be prepared to observe more in detail and will have more power of 
expression, as well as a <,aeater familiarity with the activities of thy birds 
through the bird games and linger plays. 

If there is a kindergarten canary, it would naturally furnish the text 
foi- this talk; l)ut the migration of the birds and the causes which lead 
to it sl'ould be jirominent. 



THE TALK. 

(Sing the Froebel finger play, "In tlie branches of the tree." 

Show a nest and enhirge somewhat npon the nest bnikling and 
the family life which the song has only suggested.) 

The nest is the birdie's home. A small place for a whole fam- 
ily to live in, is it not? The baby birds are very tiny, however, 
and cuddle close together under the mother bird's wings; and 
the father bird generally sits on a branch near the nest. 

How do birds get so high in the tree? What do they use in 
flying? (Let the children tell all they can about birds, — their 
appearance and habits and songs, — and also tell what '.)irds they 
know by name.) 

What do birds like to eat? Fruit, grains and other seeds, and 
worms and insects. Where do they find them? Are the worms 
and insects out in the winter? Are the fruits on the trees in 
winter? What will the poor birds do, then, when the cold winds 



IN THE CHILD S WORLD. 



blow and the trees are bare and the ground is covered with snow? 
Poor httle things! They could not live if they stayed here. 
They would freeze or starve in our cold laud. So, some time in 
the autumn, when they find that the air is colder and food is 
getting scarce, they decide to go away. AVhole flocks of them 
fly away together. 

Where do you think they go? Far away to another part of 
our land where it is warm, bright, summer weather. 

Is it not wonderful that they know when and where to go? — 
wonderful that they can find their way, sometimes across the 
sea even, and always a long distance? How glad they must be, 
after flying so far, to reach a place where they find fruit and 
flowers, aud green trees and warm sunshine! 

Do all the birds fly away to a warm country? Which birds 
stay Avith us all Avinter? Is it easy for them to find enough to 
eat? Would you like to help them sometimes this Avinter? Even 
if we should only give the birds the crumbs and bits from our 
lunch every day, it Avould be a help to them. Perhaps Ave can 
sometimes make quite a feast for our little feathered friends. 



TEACHER'S READING. 

A Popular Handbook of the Ornithology of the T'liited 

States, Based on Nuttall's JNIanual, - - M. Chaitiberlain 

Migration of Birds ("Winners in Life's Kace" ), - Arabella Buckley 

A Bird Medley ("'Birds and Poets"), - - - Burroughs 

November Birds ("Sharp Eyes'"), - - - - W.M. Gibson 

The Unknown Land, - - - - - Margaret Gatty 

To a Waterfowl, - ... Bryant 

A September Robin, - - I>. Mulock Craik 

A Remembrance of Autumn. - - - Adelaide A. Proctor 

The Flight of the Birds, - - - - E. C. Stedman 

The Departure of the Swallow, .... IF. Howitt 

Bird Ways, - - - - - - O. T. Miller 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 
Coming and Going (Kindergarten Stories and Morning Talks), S. E. Wiltse 



IJS THE child's world. 1^ 



STORIES. 

LISA AND THE BIRDS. 

I From the Norwegian . i 

" Tell me,'' said little Lisa, 

The pretty child so sweet, 
" Where do you tiny birdies 
Find all you need to eat?"' 
The little birds in answer 

Sang cheerily : " We know ! 
For us, a dainty table 

Is spread where'er we go: 
The good brown earth, so kindly, 

Has scarce a single plant 
Which will not feast the birdies 

When seeds or fruits they want." 
So sang the birds to Lisa; 
But Lisa, pitying, said : 
" When little birds are tired 
Where can they find a bed? 
Then gaily chirped the birdies, 
" In every bush or tree 
Where we may choose to build them 

We have our dwellings free. 
Leaf shaded and leaf hidden 

We safely go to rest; 
Was never bed more cosy 

Than is the birdie's nest.'' 
Still questioned little Lisa: 
" But when you wish to drink, 
What then? ' ' The birdies warbled : 
" We seek the brooklet's ;)rink, 
Or sip the dew of morning 

Which every leaf holds up; 
Or take with joy the raindrops 

From some bright llower's cup. 
And many a spring and fountain 

And many a wayside pool 
Their sparkling waters offer, 
So fresh and pure and cool." 



14 



IN THE CHILI) 8 WOULD. 

Then said the loving Lisa: 
" When winter cold is here 
And everything is frozen, 

Oh, you will starve, I fear! "' 
Again the birds chirped gaily: 
" O little maiden kind. 
We fly to lands of sunshine 

Where summer joys we find. 
And for the birds who stay here 

Ev'n when cold winter comes, 
Some child as sweet as you, dear, 

Will surely scatter crumbs. 



Emilik POUISSON. 




THE CKAXE EXPRESS. 

Once upon a time tliere were six little birds, all fat, all fluffy, 
uiid all friendly; and they sat in a row on the shore of the Med- 
iterranean Sea. 

Said one of them to the others, '^'Fat and fluffy friends, let us 
go over to Africa. I have lieard that the worms there walk into 
one's mouth as soon as one opens it, and that they have b'esides 
a very fine flavor." 

Said the others to him, *' Fluft'y friend and fat, gladly would 
we go to Africa, but how can we get there? Our wings are 
short, and we are small. We never could fly so far, but should 
drop into the sea and be drowned.'' 

"That is true," said the first. " Let us see if some one does 
not come along who will carry us over."' So they all waited, sit- 
ting in a row on the sand. Soon a great fish came swimming by. 



IN THE child's world. 15 



" Will you curry us to Africii, fish?" asked the six little birds. 

*'I will curry you to the bottom of the sea,'' replied the fish, 
*'Just like this!'' and, folding his fins, he darted down through 
the water as swift as an arrow. 

" Dearl dearl " said the little birds. " ITow lucky that we did 
not go Avith him. We must still wait." 

Soon a slieep came Avalking by, and as it looked very good- 
natured, the birds asked if it would carry them over to Africa. 

"^ I can't,'' said the sheep. "I never swim, and I caiinot fly. 
You must wait for the cranes." 

"And Avho are the cranes?" asked the little birds. 

" I'hey are big birds," said the sheep, ''with long bills, longer 
necks, and legs that are longer yet. Once every year they come 
from the north and fly to Africa, and always carry small birds 
like you. I wonder you have never seen them." 

"Wo are very young,'' replied the fat, flutfy, little friends. 
"AVe have seen little of the world, but we thank you very much 
for telling us, and we will wait for the cranes."' 

They had not long to wait. In a few minutes they heard a 
rushing eound overhead, and looking up saw a flock of great 
birds with necks outstretched and wings spread wide, flying low 
over the beach. 

"Will you carry us over to Africa?" called the little birds all 
in a flutter, as the first crane swept by. 

" I am full! " replied the crane. " The fourth behind me has 
room for you, but you must get on quickly I" 

As he flew on, the six friends saw that his back was covered 
with small birds, all huddled together and holding on with beaks 
and claws. 

The second crane passed, and the third, both heavily laden. 
Then came the fourth. Hop! skip! flutter! scramble! and the 
six fat, fluffy friends were seated on his back, with a dozen or 
more little fellows about their own size. 

"Are you all right?" said the crane. "Hold on tight! " and 
away he flew over the wide, blue sea. 

Many other little birds came flying to the shore, to take pas- 
sage on the Crane Express. And many a back was covered with 
tiny passengers. 



10 lif THE CHILD S WOliLD, 

"All aboard! all aboard! '' cried the cranes. " Twitter! chirp! 
twit-twit!" piped the passengers. And the whole train swept 
on, far away over the sea, toward the white shore of Africa. 

Now, part of this story may be true, for cranes really do carry 
hundreds of small birds over the Mediterranean Sea every year. 
But whether the African worms walk into bird's mouths of their 
own accord or not, is quite another matter; and if I were you, I 
would not believe it till I saw it. 

Holmes' Third Reader. 

University Publisliing Co., New York. 



BIKD THOUGHTS. 



I lived first in a little house, 

And lived there very well, 
I thought the world was small and roun(i; 

And made of pale blue shell. 

I lived next in a little nest, 

Nor needed any other, 
I thought the world was made of straw, 

And brooded by my mother. 

One day I fluttered from the nest 

To see what I could find. 
I said: " The world is made of leaves, 

I have been very blind." 

At length I flew beyond the tree. 

Quite fit for grown-up labors. 
— I don't know how the world is made. 

And neither do my neighbors! 

Unlcnorni. 




WOOD. 



To THE Teacher: — 

(Having various familiar objects on the table, let the children tell of 
•what they are made. Or, if the talks on fruits and seeds have been given, 
take the subject from the point of the tree's gifts to us.) 



THE TALK. 

Let us each name some kind of fruit whicli grows on trees. 
(Do not forget the different kinds of nuts^ too.) Besides so 
many kinds of fruits, the trees give us the beautiful leaves which 
we have had in kindergarten this autumn, the sap of which maple 
sugar is made in the spring, and wood — oh! so much wood! 
All the wood we have to burn, and all the wood which is used 
in building, or in any way, comes from the trees. 



18 IX THE Cllll.l/S WOKI,I>. 



(Have each child toucli or tell of something made of wood- 
Try to have this a lively exereise. Prepare the (diildren whom 
you tliiuk Avould nor. be ready to mention anything, by giving 
them wooden objects whioli they c.in show and name. 

A little forethought for the backward children will often en- 
able them to derive benefit which they would otherwise miss 
from an exercise.) 

Our tables and chaii's do not look much like the trees from 
which they are made, do they? 'J'ell me how a tree looks. 
What shape is the trunk — the tall, thick part? Is it rough or 
smooth as you touch it? 

Suppose Ave Avere going to make a table out of a tree, Avhat 
woukl be \h(i lirst thing to do? 

(Lead the children to trace as much of the work of preparation 
as possible, — the selection of a tree of the proper size and kind 
[choose tiie kind of Avhich tiie table is reail\' made,] the chopping 
down of the tree, and the sawing or chopping otf of the branches, 
hauling the logs to the river, floating them to the saAvmill 
where ihey are sawed into boards, piling them in the lumber 
yard to dry and to wait until some one comes to buy them. 

Sing •■ Zish, zish," and let the children play that they are 
making a table out of some of the boards whose history they have 
traced.) 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Wood and Its Uses, ------ Ena/clopifdia 

Pocket Key of Trees (both wild and cultivate<l) of North- 
ern U. S., east of the Kocky Mts., By Austin C. Apgar 
Drownes Wooden Ima<;e. ----- Hawthorne 

Gaspar Becerra. ------ Lonat'ellow 

The Lumbermen, ------ Wliittier 

A Winter Evening Hymn to My Fire, - - - Lowell 

Backlog Studies, - - - - Charles Ditdleij Warner 

FOR TIIE CHILDKEX. 

The Walnut Tree that Wanted to Bear Tulips (Kindergarten Stories and 
Morning Talks), ^- i^- yViUse 



IN THE child's WOHLD. 1 'J 



STORIES. 

THE LO(JGIN(i C A:\1P. 

When my brother Russell w.is a little boy we lived in Maine. 
There were great woods near the ^own where our home was, and 
the men who lived in that part of the country used to go into 
these woods at the beginning of winter and stay there till spring, 
cutting down trees and making them ready to ))e sawed into 
boards at the sawmill. 

As there were several inen who woiit together to the same 
place, they l)uilt themselves a house to live in while out in the 
woods. This was a square house of one room, and they called it 
their camp. As their business was to make logs of the trees 
which they cut down, the camp was called a logging camp. 

One day my uncle came to our house and said that he was 
going to one of his logging camps, and would stay all night. 
He had his little boy with him, and asked mother if Russell 
might go, too. Mother was willing and Russell was delighted, 
so off he started with his uncle and cousin. 

They had several miles to go, but it Avas good sleighing, so the 
boys enjoyed it very much. When they reached the camp, late 
in the afternoon, the men there were delighted to see the chil- 
dren; for, being so far from home, none of them had seen a child 
for many weeks. 

The boys enjoyed the supper of hot biscuit, ])aked ])ork and 
beans, and coffee, cooked by one of the men. 

After supper they went to bed in the bunk, which was made 
of boards along the side of the room. The bunk was filled in 
Avith spruce boughs or hay, and covered with quilts or blankets. 

The boys' feet were turned toward the fire which burned all 
night in the middle of the room, the smoke escaping through a 
square hole in the roof. Their feet being so nicely warmed., the 



•*^0 IN THE CHILD S WORLD. 



boys did not suffer at all from cold; they slept soundly iind were 
among the first to wake in the morning. It was very interesting . 
to watch the cook get breakfast (which was just the same as the 
supper of the evening before) and after breakfast they went out 
to see the men at work. 

They wei'e never tired of watching the "tree-fellers," as the 
men who cut down the trees were called. Two tree-fellers would 
begin chopping at the trunk of a tree, standing on opposite sides 
and making the chips fly in every direction. As the gap made 
by each chopper came nearer and nearer to the middle, the tree 
would begin to shake, and, finally, down it would come! But 
the men, knowing in what direction it would fall, could jump 
out of the way. 

The tree did not always fall directly to the ground, for some- 
times the men would make it fall on a smaller tree to prevent 

the larger one from being splintered, as it might be if the force 

of its fall were unbroken. 

When this tree was on the ground, other men would come and 

cut off its branches, while the two tree-fellers were cutting down 

another tree. 

By the time the branches were cut off, a second tree would be 

felled and the men would pass on to cut off its branches as they 

had done to the other, while the tree-fellers would go back to 

the first tree and cut it up into different lengths. These lengths 

were called logs. 

Then the teamsters came and loaded the logs on their sleds 

and hauled them to the river, down which they floated to the 

sawmill when the ice melted in the spring. 

What do you suppose drew the sleds? ''Horses?" No. They 

use horses in some places; but in Maine, at that time, they used 

oxen to haul the sleds, because oxen can move through the deep 

snow better than horses. The oxen were not harnessed like 

horses, but each pair wore a yoke* to which a ring was attached. 

The pole went through this ring, or a chain was fastened to it. 
The visitors stayed till after dinner, and then started for home 

in the sleigh, so the Ijoys had another pleasant sleighride 



'The yoke can be represented wltli sticks and linjjs. 




Floa,tin 



WlIKKE THE IjOOS (tO. 



21 



IN TUE CHILD S WOULD. 



Kussell brought with him one of the camp biscuits to show to 
Hi other. 

*' Hee, mother/' said he eagerly^ "what nice biscuits we had at 
the camp. I brought one home i'or you to taste. It is the best 
biscuit 1 ever ate."' Mother aud grandmother tasted it, and then 
looked at each other. The biscuit was yellow with saleratus, 
(then used instead of soda) and of course tasted strongly of it; 
but to the little boy, with appetite sharpened by the fresh, cold 
air, it was delightful. 

JOSEPHIXE JaUA'IS. 
Cobden, III. 

THE HONEST WOODMAN. 

Out in the green, silent Avoods and near a rushing rivi-r tliat 
foamed aud sparkled as it hurried along, there lived a good man 
whose work was wood-chopping. With his strong, sharp ax 
over liiB shoulder, he started out one autumn day, and, selecting 
a large oak tree near the river side, was soon swinging his ax 
riglit sturdily as lie hewed away at the tree trunk. 

The chips flew fast at every stroke, and the sound of the ax 
ringing against the wood was echoed so clearly that joxi would 
have thought another wood chopper was at work not far away. 

By and by the woodman thought he would rest awhile. He 
leaned his ax against the oak tree and turned to sit down, but 
tripped against his ax; and before he could catch it, it had slid 
down the bank and into the stream just where the water was 
very deep! The poor woodman gazed into the stream, which 
flowed on over his lost treasure as merrily as before, and then he 
spoke aloud in his distress. '*0h, what shall I do? My good 
axl The only ax I had! I can never get it again. Even had 
I money to get another, I should still lament for this one, — t^o 
strong it was, and so sharp, and the stout handle worn so smooth 
to my hands.'' 

The nymph or waterfairy who lived in this river (for this all 
happened in fairy days) heard the sad words of the woodman, 
and, rising to the surface, spoke to him in a voice that was like 
the sweet, tuneful tinkle of dropping water. 

"What is your sorrow'-"' said she kindly. 'J'he Avoodman told 



IN TiiK child's world. 23 

her of his misfortune, wondering much at the sudden appearance 
of this lovely creature. 

"Cease your sad words," said the nymph in the same tinkling 
accents. "Far, far down below the reach of any mortal eyes or 
hands lies your lost ax; but wait and hope. Fairy eyes and 
fairy hands have power even in the watery depths of the sireuni." 

"She sank: — almost as quick as thought 
She rose again, and with lier brought 
An ax of silver. The rich prize 
She held before the woodman's eyes; 
And smiling, as in happy glee, 
'Is this the ax you lost?' said she. 
'Oh, no!' said he and shook his head. 
' Well then,' the smiling naiad said, 
'Here on the bank let this remain, 
And I'll go down and try again.' 
She sank; and, instantly, behold! 
Up came she, with an ax of gold ! 
Pare, solid gold — the helve, the head— 
'Is this the ax you lost?' she said. 
'Oh, no, no, no !' the man replied. 
This is not my old ax,' and sighed. 
' This is of very different ore, 
And worth, no doubt, a great deal more, 
And much more brightly does it shine. 
But 'tis not mine — no, 'tis not mine." 

'^ Indeed I" said the fairy — "Then this golden ax may lie on 
the bank beside the silver one, while I seek again for yours." 
The blue waters closed yet once more over the fairy. The wood- 
man looked at the gold ax aud at the silver ax, glittering in the 
grass. 

'• They are beautiful," said he, "and far costlier than my ax, 
which, though as good a one as ever hewed a tree, is naught but 
hardy steel ; nevertheless I will not lay claim to that which is 
not mine, nor will I say anything but the truth." 

By this time the water-nymph had again appeared above the 
shining waves and was holding another ax high in the air. The 
woodman reached forward with a shout of joy. " That is mine !'' 
he cried. " That is surely my own old ax." 



24 IN THE child's WORLD. 

" Yes," said the fairy as she put it into his hands. "This is 
jour ax, but it is only a plain steel one. Did you not like the 
silver ax and the gold ax?" '* Indeed 1 did," answered the 
Avoodman ; " but the silver ax was not mine and the gold ax was 
not mine. Not for them or for any other treasure will I say 
what is not true." "'Eight, honest woodman," said the fairy 
with a radiant smile of approval. " Truth, is better than silver 
or gold. Truth can make you strong-hearted and happy though 
you lose your all. And now,, farewell," she continued ; " but take 
as a gift from me the ax of silver and the ax of gold." 

So saying, she waved her white hand and disappeared. The 
astonished woodman gazed at the river, but it only sparkled and 
rippled on quite in its usual fashion ; and at last with his heart 
full of gratitude to the fairy for her great kindness, the honest 
woodman gathered up the three gleaming axes and hastened hom^ 
to tell of his wonderful adventure. 

Retold by Emilie Poulssoi^. 



THE CARPENTER. 



To THE Teaciiep. : — 

For this talk the teacher will find pieces of wood (rough and smooth 
short and long, thick and thin) very useful in demonstrating the changes 
which the carpenter makes in his material. The carpenter's tools, too, 
should be shown and used when possible. A visit to a carpenter's shop 
is an excellent preparation for the teacher. If she can take the children 
with her or have a carpenter visit the kindergarten and show how he 
uses his tools, so much the better. 



THE TALK. 

(Question the children with regard to the origin and uses of 
wood as brought out in the previous talk. Let them mention 
again things that are made of wood, — in the schoolroom, at home, 
or in the street.) 

Who cuts down the trees? Who makes barrels, pails, etc., 
out of wood? Who builds houses? What else does the carpenter 
build? Perhaps there are some children here whose fathers are 
carpenters. Let us see how many. 

Suppose each one of the carpenters' children tells us of some 
tool his father uses in his work. Do the other children know of 
anymore tools which the carpenter uses? (Lee the children 
examine the tools provided, and see how many they know the 
name and use of. Show pieces of wood and ask for the tool by 
which the rough can be made smooth, the long short, holes bored, 
pieces fastened together, etc., etc., bringing out mention of each 
tool in this way. ) 



26 



IN THE CHILI' S WOULD. 



A man has to learu how to use all these tools and to do all 
these things and many more before he can be a good carpenter. 
Can you find places in the room where the plane must have been 

used? the hammer? the saw? 
Who has been at work here, 
then, to make our pleasant, 
comfortable room? 

And who made the wood 
ready for the carpenter? 
The wood-chopper in the for- 
est, and the men at the saw- 
mill. Besides all these men, 
the mason and the paiiiter 
and the glazier helped in 
building the house. The 
mason made the cellar and 
the walls, the painter painted 
the house, and the glazier 
put the glass in the win- 
dows. Think how many 
people we have to thank for 
our houses I Should we be 
very comfortable if wc had 
no houses to live in? Now 
suppose you had a good 
house, nicely built, — would 
you like to live there alone, without mamma, and papa, and 
brothers and sisters ? No, I am sure you would not. It is 
not enouah to have a house, — the house needs to have a family 
in it — father, mother, cliildren — those who belong to eacli other. 
Then a house, or even a part of a house, becomes a home. 




IN THE child's WORLD. 27 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Frccbel's Explanations of 

The Carpenter, ) 

Tlie Bridge, > Mother's^ Songn, Plnyn and Stories 

Tlie Joiner, ) 
Adam Bede, ----... Oeunje Eliot 

Annals of a (fillet Neighborhood, - - - Geor;/e Mac Donald 

Whittling, -------- Pierpont 

The Ship Builders, --.... Whittier 

The Building of the Ship, - . . . . Lonyfellow 

FOR THE CHILDREN". 

The Carj^euter (" Kindergarten Stories and 

Morning Talks"), ----.. S. E. Wiltse 
Gutta Percha Willie, - - - . . George MacDonnld 



STORIES. 

LITTLE DEEDS OF KINDNESS. 

A bright red wagon with four wheels, and a long handle to p-nll 
it by, is a delightful plaything, and little Howard, who had found 
just such a wagon at his bedside when he awoke one morning, 
could scarcely wait for the time to come when he could play with 
it. After breakfast he liurried out as soon as he could. At first 
it was fun enough just to run up and down on the broad side- 
walk and hear the wheels rattle on the bricks. It was interesting 
to practice turning, too ; for the front wheels turned under the 
body of the w^agon, just as those of a larger wagon do. 

By and by his Aunt Kate came down the street, and Howard 
ran joyfully to meet her and to show her his new wagon. 

" See the tires on the wheels. Auntie, how bright they are! 
And the front wheels turn, and the board at the back will come 
out. tool" 

Auut Kate admired everything, and, seeing the gilt letters on 



28 IS THE child's world. 

the side of the wagon, asked, "Is 'Star' the name of this 
wonderful wagon?" 

" Yes," said Howard, " this is the * Star Express.' '' 

''Then I will send this book to your mamma by the Star 
Express, for my arms are tired/' said Aunt Kate. So she put 
the big book into the cart and Howard took it to his mamma. 

After a while, Howard played that he was a milkman. He 
went along the walk, stopping in front of every house as if to 
leave the milk. By and by he came to the corner, and then 
turned to go back. 

But something was the matter with the little wagon. Howard 
looked around and saw that a wheel had come off. He picked it 
up and then stood looking at the wagon in great distress. He 
felt as if he should cry. He had thought he should have such fun 
all day, and now his wagon was broken. 

*' Perhaps papa can mend it,'" thought Howard: ''but even 
if he can, he will not be at home until to-night; papa is so busy, 
too, that he may not get time to mend it for two or three days." 

Poor Howard felt very unhappy as these thoughts passed 
through his mind. Just then some one spoke to him. A kind 
voice said ; " Let me take the wheel, little boy." 

A man whose face was as kind as the voice stood near. He 
was lifting down a wooden box which he had been carrying on his 
shoulders. 

Wondering wluit was going to happen, and with a sudden feel- 
ing of hope, Howard handed him the wheel. The man took 
some carpenter's tools from his box and went to work. Howard 
watched him with great interest. He saw tliat the man was a 
carpenter and knew exactly what to do. 

In a very little time the wheel was on, and the gay little wagon 
was as good as ever. 

" There !" said the carjienter, '' that is strong now. I do not 
think it will come off again." 

" Oh, thank you I Thank you I'' said Howard ; ''I am so glad 
it is mended. It is a new wagon and I have such fun with it." 

"Good-by," said the carpenter, as he took up liis box and put 
it on his shoulder. 




The Carpenter. 



30 IX THK CIIII.U'S WDKl.I;. 



'' Oh I" said Howard, " I wisli you would let me take your box 
of tools for you. This is the Star Express." 

" That would be a good plan," said the carpenter. " How far 
does this express run?'' 

"As far as the corner," answered Howard. 

The carpenter put his box of tools into the wagon, and away 
went the Star Express rattling down the street. 

After this Howard used to watch for li is carpenter, as he called 
him, and run to meet him whenever he saw him in the distance; 
and if, as sometimes happened, the carpenter had his box of 
tools or a package of nails-to carry, Howard always put it into 
the wagon and took it as far as he could. 

Emilie Poulsson. 



AN OLD-FASHIONED liriYME. 

This is the Tree of the forest. 

This is the Ax whose steady blows, 
Cut down the Tree of tlie forest. 

This is the Woodman, who, everyone knows. 
Wielded the Ax whose steady bh)ws 
Cut down the Tree of the forest. 

This is the Log — to the river's side 

KoUed by the Woodman, who, every one knows. 

Wielded the Ax whose steady blows 

(.'ut down the Tree of tlie forest. 

This is the River whose flowing tide 
Carried the Log that was rolled to its side, — 
Rolled by the Woodman, who, everyone knows, 
Wielded the Ax whose steady blows 
Cut down the Tree of the forest. 

This is the Wheel that went whirring round. 
Turned by the River whose flowing tide 
Carried the Log that was rolled to its side, — 
Rolled by the Woodman, who, every one knows, 
Wielded the Ax whose steady blows 
<'r.t down the Tree of the forest. 



IN^ THE CUIl.l/s WOULD. 31 



These are the Saws which, with buzzing sound, 
Were moved by tlie Wheel that went whirring round, 
Turned by the River whose flowing tide 
Carried the Log that was rolled to its side, — 
Rolled by the Woodman, who, every one knows, 
Wielded the Ax whose heavy blows 
Cut down the Tree of the forest. 



These are the Boards, so straight and long. 
Cut by the Saws which, with buzzing sound, 
Were moved .by the Wheel that w^ent wiiirring round, 
Turned by the River whose flowing tide 
Carried the Log that was rolled to its side, — 
Rolled by the Woodman, who, every one knows. 
Wielded the Ax whose heavy blows 
Cut down the Tree of the forest. 



This is the Carpenter, skillful and strong, 

Who planed all the Boards so straight and long. 

Cut by the Saw^s which, with buzzing sound. 

Were moved by the Wheel that went whirring round. 

Turned by the River whose flo^ving tide 

Carried the Log that was rolled to its side, — 

Rolled by the Woodm.an, who, every one knows, 

Wielded the Ax whose steady blows 

Cut down the Tree of the forest. 



This is the House with its windows and doors 
With timbers and rafters and roofs and floors. 
Which was built by the Carpenter skillful and strong 
Who planed all the Boards so straight and long. 
Cut by the Saws which, with buzzing sound, 
AVere moved by the Wheel that went whii-ring round, 
Turned by the River whose flowing tide 
Carried the Log that was rolled to its side, — 
Rolled by the Woodman, who, every one knows. 
Wielded the Ax whose steady blows 
Cut down the Tree of the forest. 



32 IN THE child's WOKl.l). 

Tliis is the Family — All are here — 

Father, and mother and children dear, 

Who live in the House with windows and doors, 

With timbers and rafters and roofs and floors. 

Which was built by the Carpenter, skillful and strong. 

Who planed all the Boards so straight and long, 

Cut by the Saws which, with buzzing sound. 

Were moved by the Wheel that went whirring round, 

Turned by the River whose flowing tide 

Carried the Log that was rolled to its side, — 

Rolled by the Woodman, who, every one knows. 

Wielded the Ax whose steady blows 

Cut down the Tree of the forest. 

Emilie Poulsson. 



THE CLOCK. 



To THE Teacher :- 



At the beginning of the year, when there is danger that the chiklrem 
may be homesick, it is better to talk of something which will take their 
thoughts away from home and mother, and also away from the strange- 
ness of their kindergarten surroundings. Later, however, the kinder- 
garten room should be consciously observed, and its useful and pretty 
things rejoiced in. When the children are ready for this, tiie subject of 
the clock is to be introduced, since by it the important matter of 
punctuality can be brought forward, and this should be done as soon as- 
other considerations will allow. 



THE TALK. 

(Sing one of the clock songs at the end of the morning exer- 
cises and so lead directly to the subject.) 

Where is the clock? Do you hear it ticking? Let us listen. 
We must be very quiet or we shall not hear it. What does it say? 

All the whole day, while we are singing and playing and work- 
ing, and all the whole night, while we are sleeping, the clock 
keeps on saying, " tic-tac, tic-tac."' 

(Ask the children to look at the clock, and lead them to describe- 
the face, hands, pendulum and case. The mechanism is too 
complex to be explained to little children, although they will be 
interested and impressed with a sight of the many little wheels 
in motion.) 

Did you ever see papa or mamma wind the clock? Why 
must it be wound? Can you show me how the wheels move?' 
How does the pendulum swing? Why do we have clocks? 

(The children can give instances of the clock's usefulness.)' 



34 



IX THE CHILI) S WOllLl). 



The clock tells when it is time for mamma to get up and get break- 
fast, and for papa to go to his work ; and it tells when thechildrea 
should go to kindergarten, and when they should go home. 

All the children who. came to kinder- 
garten in good time this morning may stand. 
JShall I tell you how you can all be in time 
to-morrow? Ask your mamma to please 
look at the clock and to let yon start as soon 
as the clock points both hands out this 
way. (Show a quarter before nine ])y using 
a card clock-face or old clock, or blackboard 
picture.) Perhajissomeof the big boys and 
girls will notice for themselves when the 
clock at home says " time to go to kinder- 
garten.'" 

Where have you seen clocks besides at 
home and at kindergarten? On churches, 
i-;iilroad stations, etc., etc. Have yon seen 
anything else which shows the time? 

Long ago people had no clocks or 

watches. What do you suppose they did 

then? They used to tell the time by notic- 

iiig the sunlight and the shadows. (De- 

j ■ scribe the sundial and show the jjicture.) 

I The sundial was of no use at night, how- 

^ ever, nor on stormy and cloudy days when 

the sun was hidden ; so people found other ways of measuring 

time. (Show an hourglass.) Sometimes water was used instead 

of sand (in an instrument called the clepsydra) and time was 

measured by the falling of drops of water. 

None of these ways were very convenient, however, and men 
were constantly trying to make something better for telling the 
time, but they had to think and study and work and try very 
hard, over and over again, before they succeeded in making clocks 
and watches as good and useful and wonderful as these which 
we have now. 





The Sundial. 



"30 IN THE child's WORLD. 



TEACHER'S READING. 



"History of the Clock, Encyclopcedia 

Frccbel's Explanation of the Clock or Tic-tac Play, 

Mother'' s ISoyigs, Plays and Stories 
The Clock on the Stairs, ----- Lomj/ellow 

A Petition to Time, ------ Barry Cornwall 

Time's Cure (Anonymous), - - Dana's Household Hook of Poetry 

Active and Passive, ------ Margaret Gatty 

FOPt THE CHILDREN. 

Frances Keeps her Promise, - - - - Jane Taylor 

•Cinderella at the Ball. 



STORIES. 

WHAT THE CLOCK TOLD DOLLY. 

Dolly Dimple sat on a rug by the hall fire, thinking. I doubt 
•whether you have overseen a great old-fashioned hall like the one 
where Dolly was sitting, for such halls are not built nowadays. 
This one was part of a great, rambling house which was more 
than a hundred years old. Dolly Dimple was born there and 
Dolly Dimple's mother and grandmother had lived in it a long 
time. They had left their home across the water and come to 
this one when Dolly's mother was a tiny child. Dolly was certain 
there had never been another such house, and this hall was her 
!?pecial delight. It was square, and had a shining oak floor, half 
covered with furry rugs. The walls were made of the same dark 
wood, and at the end was the cheery open fireplace where mossy 
logs roared and crackled all winter long, lighting up the dark 
■corners and telling wonderful stories of the summer-time and of 
.their lives in the foi-est. Near by -was a broad staircase, on the 



IN THE child's WORLD. 37 

first landing of which stood a clock, and it was about this clock 
that Dolly Dimple was thinking so deeply that wonderful night. 

It was a very tall clock, — taller than Dolly's papa, — and it had 
a long glass door through which she could see the weights and 
the pendulum which never moved now. Above this was the 
round, good-natured face which Dolly was morally certain looked 
very different at different times ; when she was good it smiled 
sweetly upon her, but when she was cross — and I am sorry to say 
Dolly was cross sometimes — it looked at her so sorrowfully! It 
could sympathize, too; for Dolly said that when she was in trouble 
she had seen the tears streaming down the old clock's face ; but 
since she was looking through a mist of tears herself at such times 
I should not like to say that this was really true. 

But the strangest thing of all about this clock was that it would 
strike. Now maybe all you wise little ones do not think it a very 
strange thing for a clock to strike; but when I tell you that this 
clock did so in spite of the fact that its wheels had not moved for 
many years, that will surely make you wonder ! 

And then it would strike at the strangest times ! No one ever 
knew when it was going off, and it had been known to strike as 
many as seventeen! Dolly couldn't understand it at all, and as 
no one explained it to her, it had puzzled her a great deal. That 
night she was more mystified than ever ; for at daybreak the 
clock had struck five, and how could the clock have known 
that it was her fifth birthday ? 

She lay curled up on the soft rug, thinking about it, until she 
began to grow drowsy. The crackling of the wood sounded 
farther and farther away; the shrill chirp of the cricket which 
lived at the back of the fireplace grew fainter and fainter. 

Suddenly a voice — a very cracked voice — broke the silence. 
''Dolly! Dolly Dimple!" it said. 

Dolly jumped up so hastily that the startled cricket sprang 
backward nearly into the fire. \Yhere had the voice come from? 
Dolly peered carefully about the hall until her eyes rested upon 
the old clock, when she was surprised to see that a new look had 
crept over its face, — a look which told Dolly that it was the clock 
that had spoken. And, sure enough! as she was gazing at it, it 
spoke again. 



38 ■ IX Tilt: child's avohld. 



" Would you like to hear a story, Dolly?"' it asked. 

Now there was nothing Dolly liked better than a story; and 
forgettiug her surprise, in her eagerness to hear what the clock 
had to say, she answered quickly : •'*' Yes inde?d, clock ; canyon 
tell me one?" 

" That I can," said the clock. " I'll tell you the story of my 
life." 

Dolly felt sure that now the mystery was to be solved, and 
curled herself up more comfortably to listen ; the busy cricket 
straightened her cap and folded her hands to show her deep 
attention ; the fire gave out a warmer glow, and the clock 
began : — 

" Perhaps, Dolly Dimple, you will understand better what a 
wonder I am if I tell you that once upon a time there wasn't a 
clock upon the face of the earth I " 

" Why-ee ! What asto — ," began the cricket, and then stoi)ped; 
but it was quite plain that she did not believe a word of it. 

" No clocks!" cried Dolly, " why, how did little girls know 
when it was school-time, or dinner-time, or — or — anything?" 

" They had other ways of telling time," answered the clock: 
" one of the first things by which they measured it was a stick, — 
a straight stick!" 

"A stick!" exclaimed Dolly. 

*'A straight stick!" murmured the cricket; "I kneio that 
clock was crazy." 

" / was brought up to think that it Avas impolite to interrupt," 
said the clock. 

'' Of coarse it is," said Dolly, "we will not breathe another 
word, will we, cricket?" 

" But a stick!" groaned the cricket, shaking her head. 

" Yes," said the clock, " try it for yourself! Go out of doors 
the next sunfly morning and plant a little stick in the ground. 
If it is early, the shadow will be agreatdeallonger than the stick 
itself, and will look as if hiding from the sun ; as noon draws near, 
you will find the shadow creeping up and up, until Just at noon, 
the stick seems to swallow it; and then, as the sun moves on 
toward the west, the shadow peeps out and creeps off on the other 



IN Till-: child's world. 39 



side of the stick until night, wlieu shadow and stick are both 
swallowed in darkness. 

" Now don't you see how you could tell time by the stick and its 
shadow? And it was this which made somebody think of a sun- 
dial." 

"A sundial,*' broke in the cricket, who could not keep still; 
"What is that?" 

*' It looks like a doll's table with a little piece of metal standing 
up in the center; and on the table top is marked the length of 
the shadow which this piece of metal casts at different hours of 
the day." 

" Was that the only clock they had?" asked Dolly. 

" If your pussy had lived in those days they would have used 
her for a timepiece," said the clock. 

The cricket evidently thought this too foolish a story to be 
noticed at all, and even Dolly looked shocked; but the clock 
knew what it was talking about and went right on. 

"If you look at Kitty's eyes when she first wakes in the morn- 
ing, you will find that the dark place in the middle of the eye is 
very big and round ; but soon you will notice that it is growing 
narrow, until by noon it is as fine as a hair ; and then it will 
slowly grow larger again, until, when night comes, it will be as 
big and round as it was in the morning." 

"What a bother it must have been to tell time in these ways!" 
said Dolly. 

"Yes, I think so myself," replied the clock, "and people be- 
gan to think that they ought to have something better to depend 
upon. So about five hundred years ago, some one invented a 
clock, — not a big, handsome one like myself, but a very plain 
affair that had no pendulum and could not strike." 

" Poor thing I" sighed Dolly. 

" Better not strike at all than strike as some clocks do," 
observed the cricket rather spitefully. 

"But it was a clock, and considered a very wonderful thing in 
those days," continued the clock; "and people must have been 
pretty well satisfied, for they did not add a pendulum for several 
hundred years." 



40 I.V THE CHILI) S WORLD. 

'•' Are you very old?" asked Dolly. 

"Yes, I am very, very old. It must be over a hundred years 
since my hands began to move. — x\h! that was a proud day for 
my maker I Every tiny, shining wheel was as perfect as perfect 
could be, and my case was a beautiful sight. On the day that I 
was finished the little clockmaker was the happiest man alive. 
He examined me in every part with the greatest care, and my 
perfection delighted him. Then he took a big ke}', and wound 
me up, touched my pendulum, and with a 'tick-tack, tick-tack,' 
I started out on my life-work. The little clockmaker did not 
long have me to admire, however, for very soon an old lady 
bought me, and I was carried away across the blue rolling water 
and placed in this hall. I am worn-out and useless now, but then 
I was of the greatest importance. Nothing was done without 
consulting me. Ever and ever so many bright-eyed children have 
raced up and down the stairs and curled up by the fire just as you 
are doing. I have loved them all and tried to show them that it 
was only by keeping our hands busy working for others, and by 
doing right, that we could be happy and make our friends love 
us. They may have thought that all I said was ' tick-tack, tick- 
tack,' but really I have always said as plainly as plainly could 
be,—' Do right, do right.'" 

"Dear old clockl" murmured Dolly; and even the cricket 
turned her head and wiped away a tear. 

" Before I stop," said the clock, " I must speak of one thing that 
others besides yourselves have noticed;" and the clock glanced at 
the cricket, who looked as if she wanted to sink through the floor. 

"You must know that a great while ago my hands refused to 
move another minute. It was a sorry day for me, and sometimes 
my feelings overcome me even now when I think of the past. 
At such times it is a great relief to me to strike." 

" You dear old clock," cried Dolly; "you shall strike as often 
as you please, and if the cricket ever dares — " 

"Dolly! Dolly Dimple!" Harry was calling. 

Dolly sat up and rubbed her eyes. " What is the matter?" she 
asked. 

" That's what I'd like to knovvl Why, the very idea of a little 
girl with a birthday sleeping as if it were any other day!" 



IN THE child's "WOULD. 41 

'•'Sleeping! I haven't slept a wink! Why, the clock has been 
talking, and the cricket, and, — " 

" Very likely! As if I'd believe that when I've knocked over 
the poker and the shovel and the tongs, and you never so much 
as winked." 

Dolly looked up at the old clock, but n6ver a word did it say. 
The broad, good-natured face beamed down upon her the same as 
ever, but she fancied it wore a wise expression that said as plainly 
as so many words: ''Keep quiet; boys are not half so wise as 
they think they are. Don't mind him, but remember all I have 
told you, and try to learn something every day from everybody. 
Be glad that you have clocks to tell you the time and to remind 
yon to keep your hands busy and to ' do right, do right.' " 

"Dolly! Dolly! Why do you keep staring at that old clock? 
I declare you are half asleep yet!" 

Dolly rubbed her eyes and stared at her laughing brother, and 
then again at the now silent clock. She was glad that she had 
been warned to keep quiet, for she did not feel like telling the 
whole story then ; but when she grew up she used to tell little 
children " What the Clock told Dolly." 

Minnie G. Clark. 



THE DISCONTENTED PENDULUM. 

An old clock that had stood for fifty years in a farmer's kitchen 
without giving its owner any cause of complaint, early one sum- 
mer's morning, before the family was stirring, suddenly stopped. 
Upon this, the dial plate (if we may credit the fable) changed 
countenance with alarm; the hands made a vain effort to continue 
their course; the wheels remained motionless with surprise; the 
weights hung speechless; each member felt disjjosed to lay the 
blame on the others. At length the dial instituted an inquiry as 
to the cause of the stagnation, when hands, wheels, weights, with 
one voice, protested their innocence. 

But now a faint tick was heard below from the pendulum, 
who thus spoke : " I confess myself to be the sole cause of the 



42 IX THE CHILI) S WORLD. 



present stoi^page, and I am willing, for the general satisfaction, 
to assign my reasons. The truth is, that I am tired of ticking. '* 
Upon hearing this, the old clock became so enraged that it was 
on the very point of striking. 

"Lazy Avire!" exclaimed the dial plate, holding up its hands. 

" Very good !" replied the pendulum; " it is vastly easy for you. 
Mistress Dial, who have always, as everybody knows, set yourself 
up above me — it is vastly easy for you, I say, to accuse other 
people of lazinessl You, who have had nothing to do all the days 
of your life but to stare people in the face, and to amuse yourself 
with watching all that goes on in the kitchen! Think, I beseech 
you, how you would like to l)e shut up for life in this dark closet, 
and to wag backwards and forwards year after year, jis I do." 

"As to that," said the dial, "is there not a window in your 
house for you to look througli?" 

"For all that," resumed the pendulum, "it is very dark here, 
and, although there is a window, I dare not stop, even for an 
instant, to look out at it. Besides, I am really tired of my way 
of life; and if you wish, I'll tell you how I took this disgustatmy 
employment. I happened this morning to be calculating how 
many times I should have to tick in the course of only the next 
twenty-four hours; perhaps some of you above there can give me 
the exact sum." 

The minute-hand, being quick at iigures, replied, "Eighty- 
six thousand four hundred times." 

"Exactly so," replied the pendulum. "Well, I appeal to 
you all, if the very thought of this was not enough to fatigue 
one; and when I began to multiply the strokes of one day by 
those of months and years, really it is no wonder if I felt dis- 
couraged at the prospect; so, after a great deal of reasoning and 
hesitation, thinks I to myself, I'll stop." 

The dial could scarcely keep its countenance during this 
harangue, but, resuming its gravity, thus replied: " Dear Mr. 
Pendulum, I am really astonished that such a useful, industrious 
person as yourself should have been overcome by this sudden 
suggestion. It is true, you have done a great deal of work in 
your time; so have we all, and are likely to do, which, although 
it may fatigue us to think of , the question is, whether it will 



I .V 'ihp: child's wdkld, 4:} 



fatigue us to du. Will you now give about lialf a dozen strokes 
to illustrate my argument?'' 

The pendulum complied, and ticked six times in its usual 
pace. " Now," resumed the dial, '' may I be allowed to inquire 
if that exertion was at all fatiguing or disagreeable to you?" 

''Not in the least," replied the, pendulum; " it is not of -six 
strokes that I complain, nor of sixty, but of millions." 

" Very good," replied the dial, " but, recollect that, though 
you may tJiink of a million strokes in an instant, you are required 
to execute but one; and that, however often you may hereafter 
have to swing, a moment will always be given you to swing in." 

" Then I hope," resumed the dial plate, " we shall all imme- 
diately return to our duty, for the maids will lie in bed if we 
stand idling thus." 

Upon this the weights, who had never been accused of light 
conduct, used all their influence in urging him to proceed; 
when, as with one consent, the wheels began to turn, the hands 
began to move, and the pendulum began to swing; while a red 
beam of the rising sun that streamed through a hole in the 
kitchen, shining full upon the dial plate, it brightened up as if 
nothing had been the matter. When the farmer came down to 
breakfast that morning, upon looking at the clock, he declared 
that his Avatch had gained half an hour in the night. 

Jane Taylor. 




Leaves. 



44 



AUTUMN. 



To TLiK Tkaciip:!!: — 

Bring all of nature that is possible into the kindergarten — colored 
leaves, autumn flowers, deserted nests, chrysalides, bare twigs, etc. 
Ask the children to bring, during the week, whatever they can find 
which shows that autumn has come. To revive the memories of summer 
and contrast summer and autumn, is the special aim of this talk. Reach 
back to spring and forward to winter incidentally. 

The thought of autumn as the harvest time and the time of prejiaring 
fcr winter should run through all the talks at this season of the year. 



THE TALK. 

Who can remember the first day we came to kindergarten this 
year? What can you remember before that? Why did we not 
have kindergarten then? What do we call that time of year 
when the weather is so warm? Tell me something about the 
summer. If the children have been to the city parks or gar- 
dens or playgrounds, speak of the beauty and advantages of such 
places, not forgetting to give credit to the city for providing 
them. Did any of you go to the seashore? Tell us about it. 

Did any of you go into the country? to a farm? W^hat was 
the farmer doing? Taking care of what he had planted in the 
spring — cutting the grass, raking and taking in the hay, hoeing 
corn and potatoes, weeding the garden, etc. Tell me what some 
of the animals were doing in the summer. Farm horses work- 
ing, cattle enjoying the pasture, squirrels, birds and insects 
playing merrily in the woods and fields. 

(Contrast all these summer activities with the autumn doings 



40 



I-V THK ClIILn S WOULD. 



at the farm and in the woods.) Is it summer now? Let us see 
how many signs we can think of which show that autumn is here. 
Once upon a time some little children had been talking about 
the signs of autumn just as we have, and they asked a friend of 
theirs to write some autumn verses for them. They told her 
just what to put into the verses. Suppose I tell you what she 
wrote. Listen carefully and see whether we had thought of all 
the signs of autumn which the verses mention. (Read or recite 
slowly "An Autumn Song.") 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Change of Seasons ('' Sun, Moon and Stars"), - - Ar/nes Giberne 

November's Wild Flowers, I ,u cu„,... T7,.^<, '»\ tir tt /^,-i,„„„ 

The Autumn Pipers, ( < ^^^'^^ ^ ^^^^ >' " " ^^ ' ^- ^'^'^'^ 

The Sleei>ing Flowers, .--_..- Emily Dickinson 

The Pomegranate Seed, ------- Hawthorne 

TheHuskers, I ........ Whittier 

Song of Harvest, \ yv/nmer 

Times go by Turns, .-_...- Robert Southwell 

In Time's Swing, .....--- Lucy Lar com 

An Indian Summer lleverie, - Lowell 

Fringed Gentian, '......... Brvant 

Death of the Flowers, \ aryani 

On the Grasshopi^er and Cricket, ------ Leigh Hunt 

On the Grasshopper and Cricket, ------ Keats 

The Eeaper, ----_.-.-- Wordsworth 

Autumn (From " The Seasons "), ------ Thomson 



FOR THE CHILDREN. 

The Maple Leaf and the Violet (" The Story Hour " ), K. D. Wirjgin 

The Anxious Leaf, I ("Kindergarten Stories and 

The Little Harvest Mouse, i Morning Talks "), - S. E. Wiltse 

Two Bunnies (" Stories for the Kindergarten and Home"), 

M. L. Van Kirk 



IM THE child's WORLD. 47 

STORIES. 

THE BABY-BUDS' WINTER CLOTHES. 

The warm summer had gone and autumn had come with its 
cooler winds, when, one day, the hickory tree said to its leaves: 
" My pretty yellow leaves, you need not take care of the baby- 
buds any more, as it is time for them to put on their winter 
clothes. But I think the flower seeds would like to have you 
help them now. Are you willing to go down to the ground in 
order to help them?" 

" Yes," said the leaves, " we would like to help the dear little 
seeds to be flowers." So they dropped to the ground, and cov- 
ered it, that the little seeds might not freeze in their winter 
home in the earth, but might live to make plants and flowers in 
the spring. 

Then the hickory tree said: " Baby-buds, it is time for you to 
put on your winter clothes, so that you can keep warm all winter 
and open into leaves in the spring." " We are all ready," said 
the buds; so the tree gave them their coats. The outside coat 
of each bud was a gum coat to keep out the wet. " Why, that 
was a waterproof coat ! How funny for the buds to have water- 
proof coats." Yes, it is strange, but if you learn how to look, 
you will find out a great many strange things. 

After the little side-buds had been given their winter clothes, 
the tree said: ''My little end-buds, you are so much more 
exposed to the cold than the other buds that you must be dressed 
more warmly than they are." So the little end-buds put on one 
coat after another, till you would have thought, to look at them, 
that they were at least twice as large as the side-buds, and their 
gum coats had to be a great deal bigger than those of the others. 

I saw an end-bud of a hickory tree once that had twelve coats 
on it. 

Then all the baby-buds said: " Thank you, dear tree, for our 
winter clothes. Now we can keep warm till spring." 

Josephine Jarvis. 

Cobden, III. 



48 IN THE child's world. 



AN AUTUMN SONG. 

The song-birds are Hying 

And southward are hying, 
No more their glad carols we hear. 

The gardens are lonely, — 

Chrysanthemums only 
Dare now let their beauty appear. 

The insects are hiding, — 

The farmer providing 
The lambkins a shelter from cold. 

And after October 

The woods will look sober 
Without all their crimson and gold. 

The loud winds are calling, 

The ripe nuts are falling. 
The squirrel now gathers his store. 

The bears, homeward creeping. 

Will soon all be sleeping 
So snugly, till winter is o'er. 

Jack Frost will soon cover 

The little brooks over; 
The snow-clouds are up in the sky 

All ready for snowing ; 

— Dear Autumn is going! 
We bid her a loving " good-bye." 

Emilie Poulssox. 



^Kindergarten Magazine.' 



THE KIND OLD OAK. 

It was almost time for winter to come. The little birds had all 
gone far away, for they Avere afraid of the cold. There was no 
green grass in the fields, and there were no pretty flowers in the 
gardens. Many of the trees had dropped all their leaves. Cold 
winter, with its snow and ice, was coming. At the foot of an old 
oak tree some sweet little violets were still m blossom. "De:ir 



IN THE CHILD S WORLD. 



49' 



old oak," said they, "winter is coming; we are afraid that we 
shall die of the cold." 

''Do not be afraid, little ones," said the oak, "close your yel- 
low eyes in sleep, and trust to me. You have made me glad many 
a time with your sweetness. Now I will take care that the winter 
shall do you no harm." 

■ So the violets closed their pretty eyes and went to sleep; they 
knew that they could trust the kind, old oak. And the great tree 
softly dropped red leaf after red leaf upon them, until they were 
all covered over. 

The cold winter came, with its snow and ice, but it could not 
harm the little violets. Safe under the friendly leaves of the old 
oak, they slept and dreamed happy dreams until the warm rains 
of spring came and waked them again. 

•'Little Flower Folks."' 
Educational Publishimj Co., Boston, 2Iass. 




Cnestnat^ 
m the 
Durr. 



THE CHESTNUT BOYS. 

In a warm little bed, in a 
little green house, Mother 
Nature had tucked three 
baby boys safely away for a 
long sleep. 

The liouse was not like 
the ones we live in, for it 
had only one tiny room, 
with no windows, and the 
door was fastened so tightly that no one could get in or out. 

For many, many bright sunny days the little boys were sleep- 
ing, and all this time they were growing a little larger and a little 
larger, just as you all are growing. 

But by and by the days began to grow cooler. The green leaves 
put on their autumn dresses of red and yellow, and came rustling 
down from the tree to play with the wind. 

Then the babies stirred in their little bed, for the Wind was 
busy painting brown their green house, and he whistled so loudly 
at his work that they heard him in their dreams. Close behind 



50 IN THE CHILI -'S WOULD. 

the Wind came his friend, Jack Frost, a roguish little fellow. 
Gently he knocked at the door of the house, and softly he whis- 
pered, '•'Come out, little hoys; come out and play with mel" 

But Mother Nature only tucked her babies more snugly into 
bed, and answered: "No, not yet, dear little ones; sleep a little 
longer!" 

Then Jack Frost went away to play with the red and yellow 
leaves; but soon he came flying back, calling, ''Come out for a 
frolic with me, boys; come out for a frolic!" And again Mother 
Nature answered: " Not yet! not yet, my children!" 

Again came Jack Frost, and knocked very loudly at the door: 
" Come out! come out!" he called. And the little brothers cried, 
"Yes, yes, dear Mother, let us go and play with Jack Frost and 
theAYind!" 

Then the mother smiled, a little sadly, and answered: " Yes, for 
you have grown to be big boys now, and it is time for you to go!" 
80 she unfastened the door and opened it wide, and out the three 
hurried. But they soon found that the big world was not at all 
like their warm, soft little house. The Wind blew and whistled 
around them, and made them shiver; and Jack Frost was a rough 
playfellow, though he meant to be kind, and they soon grew 
weary and called to their mother: " Dear Mother Nature, we are 
tired; put us to sleep again!" 

Then the mother spread over them, where they lay on the 
ground, a warm covering of " red and yellow and faded brown." 

By and by she heard their sleepy voices again: " Kind Mother, 
we are cold !" 

Then Mother Nature sent a soft, white covering of snow, and 
wrapped them in it so nicely, that they hud hardly time to mur- 
mur " Thank you, good Mother," before they were fast asleep. 

And there they will stay, till the warm sun and the gentle 
breezes and the soft rain wake them in the sweet springtime. 

Can you guess who the little brothers were, in their snug, warm 
house? 

They were the Chestnut boys, and the brown burr is their little 
house. 

Helen Louise Towne. 

"Kindergarten Magazine." 



SEEDS. 



To THE Teacher :- 

This talk, contributed by ;i fiiena, is based upon " Treasure Boxes "in 
" Stories Mother Nature Told," by Jane Andrews. 

Provide peach, apple and other fruits ; beans and peas in their ' ' boxes f 
flrrains and other seeds. 



THE TALK. 

Begin the talk by allusions to boxes. What are they for? To 
put things away iu. We have boxes in the kindergarten. Some- 
times at home we have boxes in which to put away things that we 
care very much about; treasure boxes they are sometimes called. 
Now I am going to show you something that has a treasure box. 
(Bring out a peach.) 

Do you think this peach has a treasure box? Yes, if tlie peach 
could talk it would tell you that it has worked all summer storing 
food and drinking in sunshine, not only to make the delicious 
soft part which you like to eat, but for the life that is in the 
"stone," as we sometimes call the hard part in the middle. 

(Cut away the fruit. Show the deep color, and how the fibers 
cling to the stone or shell.) This stone is the peach's treasure 
box. (Ask if any one knows what is inside the shell. Show how 
hard the shell is. Let a child try to open it, then crack it and 
show the seed.) The seed is the peach's treasure. 

Do you know of any other treasure boxes? Apples, plums, 
flower seeds, peas, beans, etc., etc. (Ask the children to bring 
seeds for the next day, when you will tell them more about such 
treasure boxes.) 



52 IN THE child's world. 

FOR THE SECOND DAY. 

Yesterday we talked about the peach's treasure box; to-day we 
have many others. 

(Phice fruits on table. Let the children come in groups, or 
distribute seeds to a few children. Examine the fruits. Question. 
Notice- similarities and differences. Make a careful study of the 
common seeds that the children will be most likely to bring — 
peaches, apples, plums, melons, etc.) 



AT THE END OF THE WEEK. 

What have we been talking about this week? Seeds. We have 
seen how carefully Mother Nature guards her treasure boxes and 
has them ready for use in the springtime. Is there anyone who 
helps Mother Nature ? Yes; the farmer and all the seed gatherers. 
Mother Nature says to them, " Unless you gather and take care of 
my seeds you will not have any peach trees or apple trees and no 
corn or beans or peas or squashes, etc.," and so the farmer saves 
his seeds, — not all of them, but those that.he needs to plant or sell, 
for Mother Nature is so generous that she provides a great many 
seeds. 

And now for a wee bit of a stor}'. (Tell how a farmer's chil- 
dren helped to gather and save the seeds, and placed them in boxes, 
bags and envelopes; how the farmer marked them and put them 
away in a place where they would keep.) 

Do you not think we could put some of ours away in bags or 
•envelopes for next spring? Perhaps we can plant some of them 
and see them grow here. 

We will try to make something out of our colored papers to 
ihold the seeds. 

L. B. P. 



IN THE CHILD S WORLD. 



53 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Concerning a. Few Common Plants, - . - - Goodale 

How Plants Grow, -...--- Gray 

Planting Seeds in the Schoolroom (•' Outlines of Lessons 

in Botany"), ------ June H. Newell 

Seed Tramps, - - -) ,i,a\ t? >m n-K^^ 

Quickening'^Seeds and Seedlings, j < ^^^^^'P ^^^^ ^' " ^'^"^" 

Story of Mary and the Seeds (" Kindergarten Magazine," 

May and June, 1891), ----- E.G.Howe 

Song of the Sower, ------ Bryant 

The Little Brown Seed, ---'-- Harriet Lothrop 
Little Brown Seed in the Furrow, - - - Ida W. Benham 



FOR THE CHILDREN. 
Quercus Alba ("Stories Mother Nature Told"), 



Jane Andreios 



STORIES. 




FIVE PEAS IN A POD. 

There were once five peas in one shell; they were green, and 
the shell was green, so they believed that the whole world musi> 
be green also, which was a very natural conclusion. The shell 
grew, and the peas grew; they accommodated themselves to their 
position, and sat all in a row. The sun shone without and 
warmed the shell, and the rain made it clear and transparent; 



5-i JX THE child's would. 



it was mild and agreeable in broad daylight, and dark at nighty 
and the peas as they sat there grew bigger and ])igger, and more 
thoughtful as they mused, for they felt there must be something 
for them to do. 

"Are we to sit here for ever?" asked one; "shall we not 
become hard by sitting so long? It seems to me there must be 
something outside, and I feel sure of it." 

And as weeks passed by the peas became yellow, and the shell 
became yellow. 

''All the world is turning yellow, I suppose," said tliey^and 
perhaps they were right. 

Suddenly they felt a pull at the shell; it was torn off, and held 
in human hands, then slipped into the pocket of a jacket in com- 
pany with other full pods. 

" Now we shall soon be opened," said one — just what they all 
wanted. 

"■ I should like to know which of us will travel farthest," said 
the smallest of the five; "we shall soon see now." 

" What is to happen will happen," said the largest pea. 

" Crack," went the shell as it burst, and the five peas rolled 
out into the bright sunshine. There they lay in a child's hand. 
A little boy was holding them tightly, and said they were fine 
peas for his pea-shooter. And immediately he put one in and 
shot it out. 

" Now I am flying out into the wide world," said the pea; 
"catch me if you can;" and he was gone in a moment. 

" I," said the second, "intend to fly straight to the sun; that 
is a shell that lets itself be seen, and it will suit me exactly;" 
and away he went. 

" We will go to sleep wherever we find ourselves," said the 
two next, " we shall still be rolling onwards;" and they did cer- 
tainly fall on the floor and roll about before they got into the 
pea-shooter; but they were put in for all that. " We shall go 
farther than the others," said they. 

" What is to happen will happen," exclaimed the last, as he 
was shot out of the pea-shooter; and as he spoke he flew up 
against an old board under a garret window, and fell into a little 
crevice, which was almost filled up with moss and soft earth. 




" Getting Well.' 



65 



■ 56 IN THE CHILl/S WORLD. 

The moss closed itself round him, and there he lay, a captive 
indeed, but not unnoticed by God. 

" What is to happen will happen," said he to himself. 

Within the garret lived a poor woman, who went out to clean 
stoves, chop wood into small pieces, and perform other hard 
work, for she was strong and industrious. Yet she remained 
always poor; and at home in the garret lay her only daughter, 
not quite grown up, and very delicate and weak. For a whole 
year she had kept her bed. Quietly and patiently she lay all day 
long, while her mother was away from home at lier work. 

Spring came, and one morning early the sun shone brightly 
through the little window and threw his rays over the floor of 
the room. Just as the mother was going to her work, the sick 
girl fixed her gaze on the lowest pane of the window. " Mother!" 
she exclaimed, ''what can that little green thing be that peeps 
in at the window? It is moving in the wind." 

The mother stepped to the window and half opened it, " Oh!" 
she said, " there is actually a little pea which has taken root and 
is putting ont its green leaves. How could it have got into this 
crack! Well, now, here is a little garden for you to amuse your- 
self with." So the bed of the sick girl was drawn nearer to the 
window, that she might see the budding plant; and the mother 
went out to her work. 

" Mother, I believe I shall get well," said the sick child in the 
evening, " the sun has shone in here so brightly and warmly to- 
day, and the little pea is thriving so well; I shall get on better, 
too, and go out into the warm sunshine again." 

"God grant it!" said the mother, but she did not believe it 
would be so. But she propped up with a little stick the green 
plant which had given her child such pleasant hopes of life, so 
that it might not be broken by the winds; she tied the piece of 
string to the window sill and to the upper part of the frame, 
so that the pea tendrils might twine round it when it shot up. 
'And it did shoot up; indeed it might almost be seen to grow 
from day to day. 

" Eeally, here is a flower coming," said the old woman one 
morning, and now at List she began to encourage the hope that 
her little sick daughter might really recover. She remembered 



IN THE child's would. 57 

that for some time the child had spoken more cheerfully, and 
during the last few days had raised herself in bed in the morning 
to look with sparkling eyes at her little garden which contained 
only a single pea-plant. A week after, the invalid sat up for the 
first time a whole hour, feeling quite happy by the oi^en window 
in the warm sunshine, while outside grew the little plant, and 
on it a pink pea-blossom in full bloom. The little maiden bent 
down and gently kissed the delicate leaves. This day was to 
her like a festival. 

"Our Heavenly Father Himself has planted that pea, and 
made it grow and flourish, to bring joy to you and hope to me, 
my blessed child," said the happy mother, and she smiled at the 
flower, as if it had been an angel from God. 

And when the young maiden stood at the open garret window, 
with sparkling eyes and the rosy hue of health on her cheeks, 
she folded her thin hands over the pea-blossom and thanked 
God for what He had done. 

Hans Chr. Andersen. 



PSYCHE'S TASKS. 

There was once a very beautiful earthly maiden named Psyche. 
Every one liked to see her joyous face, as she roamed over the 
meadows gathering the field-flowers, or sat weaving them into 
garlands for her friends. She had many friends and companions, 
but chief among them all was one who used to come down to 
visit her from lofty Olympus, the home of the gods. This was 
the little winged god, Cupid, who loved her dearly. 

Now Psyche, charming and loving as she was, was a thought- 
less child, and one day, by a foolish prank, gave such offense to 
Cupid that he spread his rosy wings and flew away. As day 
after day passed and he did not come again, she mourned and 
grieved for her companion, but not her grief nor even her 
repentance could bring him back. 

At last, some one, pitying her sorrow, advised her to go to the 
temple of Venus, and there to beg the assistance of Venus her- 
self, who was the mother of Cupid. Psyclie, with hope revived. 



58 IN THE chu.d's world. 

went straightway to the temple, with its sliining pilhirs and 
white marble steps, and humbly made her request, but A'enus 
told her that there were hard tasks to be performed before she 
could win back what she had so foolishly lost. Psyche willingly 
undertook to perform these, but when she learned what the first 
one was, her heart sank. Venus led her to a vast granary, where 
wheat, barley, millet, and all sorts of grain lay about on the 
floor, mixed together in hopeless confusion. " Before evening,'* 
said Venus, "all these different sorts of grain must be separated 
from each other, and each kind must be piled by itself." 

To poor Psyche it did not seem possible to accomplish such a 
task; nevertheless, she at once set to work; she would at least do 
all that she could, she thought; so she sifted and sorted, and 
arranged without stopping till late in the afternoon. Then, as 
she looked at htr orderly little piles and saw how tiny they 
appeared beside the great heaps of grain that remained to be 
sorted, she felt saddened and discouraged indeed. She held 
bravely, however, to her purpose of doing her best, little as it 
might prove to be, and her busy hands were working even 
more quickly than before, when — a wonderful thing happened. 

Psyche did not notice it at first, but presently raising her eyes 
from her work, she was astonished to see that her piles of sorted 
grain had mounted to a surprising height, and that the big un- 
sorted heaps had become very much smaller. From every side 
had come swarms and crowds of friendly little ants. Each one 
had set to work, as patiently and as perseveringly as Psyche her- 
self, to help her to accomplish her task before the end of the 
day. She could see them tugging away at grains larger than 
themselves, or marching steadily, one behind another, each set- 
ting down his burden in the right place and then returning for 
more. Now she could work with a light heart, and when even- 
ing came and the friendly ants had trooped off through their 
cracks and crannies, the task was accomplished and everything 
was seen to be, as if by magic, in perfect order. Psyche did not 
know who had sent the ants to her assistance. She never 
thought that Cupid himself, though he could not come to her, 
was helping her in this way. 

The other tasks imposed upon Psyche were no less difficult 



xN THE child's WORLD. 59 

than the first hud been; but though, one by one, Psyche accom- 
plished them all, still she heard nothing of her beloved companion 
and was beginning to despair of ever seeing him again. Cupid, 
hov/ever, was nearer to her than she thought and the moment 
came at last when he could go to her. 

One day, when Psyche, weary and discouraged, was least ex- 
pecting him, a light whirring of wings sounded in the air, and 
in a moment Cupid himself, like a shining vision, stood before 
her eyes. She could hardly believe that she was not dreaming, 
even when he told her that her troubles and labors were at last 
over and that he was to be separated from her no longer, A 
beautiful pair of butterfly wings was given to Psyche, that she 
might be able to fly as Cupid did, and together the two went 
winging their way through the blue air to Olympus, the abode 
of the gods. There among the gods and goddesses, Cupid and 
Psyche lived joyfully ever after; never again were they separated 
from one another. 

F. H. 



APPLE-SEED JOHN. 

PooFt Johnnj^ was bended well-nigh double 
With years of toil, and care, and trouble; 
But his large old heart still felt the need 
Of doing for others some kindly deed. 

" But what can I do ?" old Johnny said; 
"I who work so hard for daily bread? 
It takes heaps of money to do much good; 
I am far too poor to do as I would." 

The old man sat thinking deeply a while. 
Then over his features gleamed a smile. 
And he clapped his hands with a boyish glee. 
And said to himself, "There's a way for me!" 

He worked, and he worked with might and main, 
But no one knew the plan in his brain. 
He took ripe apples in pay for chores, 
And carefully cut from them all the cores. 



60 IN THE child's WORLD. 

He filled a bag full, then wandered away, 
And no man saw him for many a day. 
With knapsack over his shoulder slung, 
He marched along, and whistled or sung. 

He seemed to roam with no object in view, 
Like one who had nothing on earth to do; 
But, journeying thus o'er the pi-airies wide. 
He paused now and then, and his bag untied. 

With pointed cane deep holes he would bore, 
And in ev'ry hole he placed a core; 
Then covered them well, and left them there 
In keeping of sunshine, rain and air. 

Sometimes for days he waded through grass, 
And saw not a living creature pass, 
But often, when sinking to sleep in the dark. 
He heard the owls hoot and the prairie dogs bark. 

Sometimes an Indian of sturdy limb 
Came striding along and walked with him; 
And he who had food shared with the other. 
As if he had met a hungry brother. 

When the Indian saw how the bag was filled. 
And looked at the holes that the white man drilled, 
He tliought to himself 't wlis a silly jjlan 
To be planting seed for some future man. 

Sometimes a log cabin came in view, 
Where Johnny was sure to find jobs to do, 
By which he gained stores of bread and meat, 
And welcome rest for his weary feet. 

He had full many a story to tell. 
And goodly hymns that he sung right well; 
He tossed up the babes, and joined the boys 
In many a game full of fun and noise. 

And he seemed so hearty, in work or play, 
Men, women, and boys all urged him to stay; 
But he always said, " I have something to do, 
And I must go on to carry it through." 



IN THE child's WORLp. 61. 

The boys, who were sure to follow him round, 
Soon found what it was he put in the ground; 
And so, as time passed and he traveled on, 
Ev'ry one called him " Old Apple-seed John.' 

Whenever he'd used the whole of his store, 
He went into cities and worked for more; 
Then he marched back to the wilds again, 
And planted seed on hill-side and plain. 

In cities, some said the old man was crazy; 
While others said he was only lazy; 
But he took no notice of gibes and jeers, 
He knew he was working for future years. 

He knew that trees would soon abound 
AVhere once a tree could not have been found; 
That a flick' ring play of light and shade 
AVould dance and glimmer along the glade ; 

That blossoming sprays would form fair bowers, 
And sprinkle the grass with rosy showers ; 
And the little seeds his hands had spread 
Would become ripe apples when he was dead. 

So he kei)t on traveling far and wide, 

Till his old limbs failed him, and he died. 

He said at the last, " 'T is a comfort to feel 

I 've done good in the world, though not a great deal." 

Weary travelers, journeying west. 
In the shade of his trees find pleasant rest; 
And they often start, Avith glad surprise. 
At the rosy fruit that round them lies. 

And if they inquire whence came such trees, 
. Where not a bough once swayed in the breeze. 
The answer still comes, as they travel on, 
" These trees were planted by Apple-seed John." 

Lydia Maria Child. 
'St. Mcholas." June, 1880. 



THE WIND. 



To THE Teacher: — 



After the morning greetings the central subject of the morning may be 
introduced in many ways: perhaps by directing the children's observation 
to the weather, finding what they noticed about it on the way to kinder- 
garten; or, if they have been singing " Come, little leaves," the subject 
of the wind may be brought uppermost easily and naturally through the 
song. 



THE WIND AS AN UNSEEN POWER. 

(The thought in this form is, of course, only for the teacher's mind. No 
more tlian the impression is to be given to the children; and this will be 
done by leading them to recall familiar manifestations of the wind's 
power.) 



THE TALK. 

What does the wind do? Plays with the leaves, gets the trees 
ready for winter, covers the ground with them to help keep the 
the roots and seeds warm, tells the birds that winter is coming, 
blows the nuts down from the tall trees in the wood, as well as 
the apples, pears and other fruits from the orchard trees. 

(Anecdote of child in an orchard, who sees an apple but is un- 
able to reach it and asks the wind to bring it to her.) 

Going back to other than Autumn work, — the wind rocks the 
birds in the nests, flies kites, drives sailboats, blows the clothes 
dry, helps the sun dry the ground after rain, and turns the wind- 
mills which are sometimes used instead of water-mills. Can we 
hear the wind? Can Ave feel the wind? Can we see the wind? 
Can we see what the wind does? 





The Wind at Work. 



63 



64 IN THE child's WOKLD. 



THE WIND AS A SOWER OF SEEDS. 

(Recall some of the previous talks on seeds. Let the children 
tell that seeds need to be planted; — corn seeds, or we will h;"ve no 
corn; wheat seeds, or we will have no wheat; flower seeds or no 
flowers, etc., etc.) 

What has the farmer been doing lately? Gathering seeds from 
farm and garden to plant in the spring. What prett}' yellow 
flower do we find in the grass in the spring? Does the dandelion 
have seeds? the daisy? the oak tree? Does the farmer go every- 
where to gather such seeds? But we always have dandelions 
and daisies. Then they must have been planted. AYho does this? 
Some one who works and plays, though we never see him. Yes I 
the wind sows such seeds, — blows them from the plant, carries 
them along, drops them, blows dust and leaves over them till they 
are covered and can take root by and by, and come up in the spring 
when the other seeds do. 



WHAT THE WINDS BRING. 

Contrast gentle breezes and wild, boisterous winds. Notice 
how Mr. Wind sometimes knocks at one window, sometimes at 
another; — that is, comes from different directions. North Wind 
coming from the cold countries, tells us to remember ' ' Agoonack," 
brings ice and snow, is a friend of '' Little Jack Frost.'' South 
Wind comes from the warm countries, whisjDers of summer, comes 
from the same land as the oranges and bananas, brings warmth. 
East Wind comes from the ocean, brings moisture, fog or rain. 
" West Wind, Best Wind" brings bright, clear weather. 

AYeather vane useful to tell which wind is blowing. Anecdote 
of child and weather vane. Child was going on a picnic; weather 
doubtful; but soon the weather vane turned, showing that the 
wind had changed, promising good weather. Child happy and 
grateful. Frcebel's play of the Weather Vane. If preferred these 
words may,be used instead of other translations: — 

Tlie Weather Vane is perclied on high, 
It seems as if it touched tlie sky ! 
And just the way the Avmds do bh)\v 
The Wentlier Vane will quickly slu.w. 



IN THE CHILD'S WORLD. 



65 



TEACHER'S READING. 



The Four Winds, / , ,, Hiawatha " ) 

The White Man's Foot, j ^ iliawaUia ), 

The Maiden and the Weather Cock, 

Tlie Windmill, 

The Winds, / 

To the Evening Wind, | 

Sweet and Low, ^ . - 

What the Winds Bring, 

The Wind in a Frolic, 

Earth and Man, . . . 



Longfellow 
Longfellow 

Bryant 

Tennyson 

E. C. Stedman 

William Howitt 

Guyot 



STORIES. 



HOW WEST WIND HELPED DANDELION. 

There was once a Dandelion plant which grew in the grass just 
outside a garden fence. The leaves of the plant were thick and 
green, and its flower (held on rather a high stem, for it was a late 
blossom) was very full and round, and of the brightest yellow. 

The Dandelion was usually as happy as a queen — though not 
because of the golden crown, oh, no! Nor is it the crown which 
makes the queen happy, if that is what you are thinkingi But 
the Dandelion was happy in the beautiful world and in her loving, 
friends, and happy in her work and her play. 

Who were her friends? Oh! the Sunbeams who came sliding 
down from the great sun and kept little Dandelion warm, and 
made her green leaves greener and her yellow flower brighter 
whenever they came: and the Raindrops who tumbled their little 
silvery selves down upon her, as if in a great fury sometimes, but 
only intending a frolic and not really hurting her. They brougtit 
her all the water she had to drink and bathe in, and Dandelion 
missed them very much if they stayed long away. The great 
Winds were her friends, too. Dandelion was just the least bit 
afraid of them, to tell the truth, and liked them best when they 
were gentle and quiet, or when they sent their messengers, the 
little Breezes, to play with her. 



66 IN THE CHILD S WOKIJ). 

Dandelion had friends of another sort, too; little creatures made 
of niusie, motion, and feathers, — (we call them birds). 

Insects, too. visited her; — butterflies as yellow as her flower, 
grasshopi)ers as green as her leaves, bees going a-marketing for 
houey and ])ollen, ants running nimbly along on their six thread- 
like legs, and many, many others, down to the tiny, moving, 
black specks which seemed too small to be alive and yet were as 
full of life as their larger neighbors. 

Besides all these friends, Dandelion had some flower friends; 
the clovers who lived near her on the roadside, and the garden 
flowers who lived on the other side of the fence. The nearest 
neighbors among the garden flowers were some morning-glories 
who had actually climbed over the fence and were as friendly as 
possible. 

Dandelion's play was with any of these different friends. Her 
work was to grow and make seeds, — as many good seeds as she 
})0ssiljly could. 

As the long, bright days passed. Dandelion worked faithfully, 
in a flower's quiet, unseen way of working; and at last her seeds 
were formed. Instead of the golden crown of a flower which she 
had worn, her stalk held up a beautiful ball of silvery gauze. The 
tinv seeds were in this ball and would be ripe very soon. 

One day Dandelion saw two children. Max and Nannie, walk- 
ing about in the garden in a very business-like way. When they 
came to the morning-glory vine, she could hear what they were 
saying. 

" Where is the box for the morning-glory seeds. Max?" called 
the little girl. *' I see ever so many ripe ones." 

'• Here it is," replied Max, who had been looking in the basket 
which he carried. ''We must gather a great many morning- 
glory seeds, for you know we want to plant them all along the 
fence next year; and we are going to send some to Cousin Fan, 
too." 

"Yes, and then she will have the same kind of flowers away off 
there that we have here," said Nannie, as she poked among the 
leases and blossoms of the morning-glory vine to find the ])lump 
seed vessels. Soon she had gathered all the ripe ones, and she 
jind Max went back up the garden walk and into the house. 



IN THE child's WORLD. 67 

The Dandelion plant pondered on what it had heard. Seeds! 
Why, Dandelion plants had seeds as well as morning-glory vines! 
Probably Max and Nannie would come for her seeds. They would 
soon be ready, — in a few days, surely. 

The few days passed quickly. Every morning Max and Nannie 
came out with their basket and little boxes and went to the garden 
plants, gathering the ripe seeds. But alas! for the hopes of the 
Dandelion plant! They never looked at her or even thought of 
her seeds, although they loved dandelions as vrell as any other 
children. 

Poor Dandelion felt very much slighted. Why did not Max 
and Nannie want her seeds to plant next year or to send to Cousin 
Fan? Who would gather her seeds? She had tried so hard and 
worked so faithfully, and arranged her seeds so beautifully. Was 
it all for nothing? 

Hark! ''Cheer-up! Cheer-up!" sang a robin in the orchard; 
and a little whispering breeze rustled past her, breathing softly: 
''Wait, oh, wait!" 

"Ah! but what will become of my seeds? No one will gather 
them and they will all be wasted." 

The breeze passed on and then came a stronger puff of air. 

" West Wind is coming," thought Dandelion, trembling a little; 
and just then' she heard him calling. 

" What, ho! there, Dandelion! Are you too warm? I will fan 
you. Are you too wet? I will help you shake the heavy drops 
from your leaves and flowers." 

"No," said the Dandelion, "my leaves are not laden with 
water, nor is my heart parched with heat; but my seeds, my 
precious seeds are all to be wasted. No one will gather them." 

"Ho, ho!" laughed W^est Wind, noisily, but kindly. "And 
what do you wish to have done with your seeds?" 

" I wish they could be planted next year," said Dandelion, 
"some of them here, and some of them far away, — just as will be 
done to the seeds of the garden plants.'' 

"Ho, ho!" laughed West Wind again, as noisily and kindly as 
before. " That is an easy matter to arrange. In fact it is 
arranged. It is one of the things I was to attend to this very 
morning, if your seeds were ripe." 



68 



IN THE CHILD'S WORLD. 



"And have you brought a little box with you ?" asked Dandelion. 

" Not n " replied West Wind. " I manage differently from the 
children. I sow the seeds as I gather them, and I also cover them. 
Then they are all ready to wake up and grow in the early spring." 

*' Oh! thank you, good West Wind," said Dandelion. " What 
a kind friend you are!" 

" It is a part of our work," said West Wind. '' My brothers 
and I have a great deal of seed-sowing to do in all the forests and 
fields over the whole earth. But I must not talk any longer. 
Now, ready! One, two, three, whew! Away they go." 



't: 



y 



Dandelion heard a merry 
whistle and felt a sudden 
strong puff against her. V=^ 

At the same instant all 
her seeds were gone. Where the 
feathery white ball had been there 
showed now a little bald knob. 

" Why!" said Dandelion, rather bewil- 
dered, "how quickly that was done!" 

She looked about her. Here and there 
on the grass near her she saw several of 
her seeds; and then looking farther and 
yet farther away she could see others 
whirling and dancing through the air 
carried along by the friendly seed sowei', 
AVest Wind. 

The little silky plumes which each seed 
wore, and which had made Dandelion 
ball of silvery gauze, 
made it easy for the 
wind to take the seeds 
as far as Dandelion 
could wish; and some 
were also left to grow 





■^/ar-' 



'^^^ 



right there on the roadside bank, where she herself had alwayslived. 

Dandelion was very happy. The robin in the orchard sang 

again his hearty " Cheer-upi Cheer-upJ "and a little breeze which 



IX THE CHILD S WORLD. 69 

followed after AVest Wind whispered softly as before: " WaitI oh, 
wait!" 

"Yes," said Dandelion; "there was no need of my worrying. 
But who would have thought that the great West Wind would 
take care of the seeds of a plain little Dandelion ! "' 

Emilie Poulsson. 



THE DANDELION CYCLE. 

" Pretty little Goldilocks, shining in the sun. 
Pray, what will become of you when the summer's done ?" 

" Then I'll be old Silverhead; for, as I grow old, 
All my shining hair will be white instead of gold. 

" And where rests a silver hair that has blown from me, 
Other little Goldilocks in the Spring you'll see! 



" Goldilocks to Silverhead, Silverhead to gold, 
So the change is going on every year, I'm told." 



E. P 



ODYSSEUS AND THE BAG OF WINDS. 

Far-famed Odysseus was on his way across the sea, to his home 
in rocky Ithaca, when he came to the island of ^Eolia. Many 
had been his wanderings, by sea and land, since he had left his 
own fair dwelling, and most welcome was the sight of this friendly 
shore. Here lived the great King of the winds — ^Eolus — who 
could send gentle zephyrs murmuring over the sea, and could call 
back the wild tempests when they played too roughly with the 
waves. Well might Odysseus and his companions rejoice at 
coming to the wonderful floating island of King ^Eolus, for here 
they were kindly treated, after their toils and troubles, and when 
the time came for them to start once more on their way iEolus 
stowed in their boat gifts and provisions of all kinds for their 
voyage. 

One of these gifts was very strange in its appearance — a great 
bulging sack, as large as an ox; in fact it was made of an ox's 
skin — tied tightly about with a cord of shining silver. This 



("O l.V 'JHE child's would. 



^Eolus placed carefully in the boat, and taking Odysseus aside 
told him that in this skin he had bound uptiie blustering winds, 
so that no storms should disturb the calm of the ocean, and drive 
the little boat oat of her course. If, however, Odysseus should 
at any time be in need of a powerful blast to carry the boat 
swiftly away from some dangerous coast, or from some enemy, 
he was to open the bag with great caution and, letting out only 
the wind he wished, to close it again quickly, and bind it fast 
with the silver cord. When^Eolus had bidden farewell to Odys- 
seus and his crew, he sent a gentle west wind after them, to bear 
them prosperously on their way. 

Day after day they sailed peacefully over the gleaming ocean, 
the soft gale bearing them along, while Odysseus managed the 
sail, and kept watch night and day. On the tenth day Odysseus 
was lying asleep in the boat, resting from his labors, when the 
sailors began talking among themselves of the mysterious-look- 
ing bag. "It must be full of treasures," said they, *' and why 
should not we have our share of them?" 

Speaking thus foolishly, they finally decided to open the bag. 
They loosed the silver cord, but they needed to do no more, for 
the boisterous winds at once burst forth, and in a twinkling had 
lashed the quiet waves into foam, and whirled the boat far out of 
her course. The helmsman could do nothing, since the boat no 
longer obeyed the rudder, and even Odysseus, awakened by the 
commotion, was powerless against these roaring, whistling winds 
that tossed the little boat hither and thither at their will. 

At last Odysseus and his men, driven far from their native 
shores, saw land once again. The foolish sailors were glad enough 
to pull the boat up on the beach, and in safety once more to 
build their fire and i:)repare a comfortable meal. 

Many days and years went by before Odysseus at last reached 
his home. He had many adventures after this, but when he 
dwelt in pe:ice and quiet at last, in the home from which he had 
been absent so long, he was always fond of telling the story of 
the bag of winds given him by King ^Eolus, and of the great 
disaster brought upon his sailors and himself by their foolish 
curiosity. 

F. H. 



IN THE child's WORLD. 71 



THE NORTH WIND AT PLAY. 

(From the German.) 

Once upon a time, in a, house under a hill, lived ^Eolus and 
his four sons: North Wind, South Wind, East Wind and 
West Wind. 

One day North Wind s.iid to iiis father: *' May I go out 
to play?" 

" Oh, yes I'' said his father, " if you don't stay too long." 

Then away ran North Wind with a merry shout and song, 
banging the door behind him. 

As he ran along the road he saw in the orcliard a beautiful tree 
upon which were green apples. 

"OhI come and play with me," said North Wind. '•Come 
and play with me ! " 

"Oh, no!" said the tree; "I must stay q^uite still and help 
the apples to grow, else they will not be large and round and red 
in the autumn for the little children. Oh, no. North Wind, I 
cannot go.'' 

" Puff!" said the North Wind— and down all the apples fell 
to the ground. 

The next thing North Wmd saw was a beautiful waving field 
of corn. 

" Oh! come and play with me! Oh! come and play witli me!" 
said North Wind. 

"No, no!" said the corn; "I must stand quite still and 
grow. If you will look under this beautiful green silk you will 
see some little kernels lying. These must grow big and yellow 
to be ground into meal to make golden pudding for the children. 
So you see I cannot go to play." 

At this the North Wind sighed — " Ah-ha-a-a!" and the corn 
lay down on the ground. 

Running along. North Wind saw a lily growing under a 
window. 

'•' Oh, you lovely lily ! come and play with me," said North 
Wind. 

" I cannot," said the lily, gently; " I have to stay here because 
the farmer's little girl is n6t at all well, and I am her friend, and 



'^'Z IN THE child's world. 



«very morning she comes and smiles down at me and I smile 
back again. I am sure she would miss me very much if I should 
go; so I must stay here, dear North Wind." 

Xorth Wind touched her very gently, — but she hung her 
head and never again looked up. 

Now the farmer went out to work, and when he saw the corn 
and the apple tree, he said: "Ahl Mr. North Wind has been 
here!'' But when he went home, his little girl told him about 
the lily. And the farmer said: " I'll go right up to Mr. ^Eolus 
and tell him all about iti" 

So away he went; and he said: '' Good morning, Mr. ^Eolus. 
Your boy. North Wind, has been down my way; and he has 
blown the apples from the trees, and the corn is lying down on 
the ground; but, worse than this, he has hurt my little girl's 
lily!" 

"Ah!" said Mr. -iEolus, ''I am very sorry. I will speak to 
North Wind when he comes in." And then the farmer went 
home. 

By and by in came North Wind. 

" My boy," said J^^olus, " the farmer has been here, and he 
has told me all the harm which you have done." And tlien tlie 
father told North Wind the story of the apples and the corn and 
the lily. 

" Oh, well," said North Wind, " I know I did it; but I didn't 
mean to. I just meant to have a little fun with the apple tree; 
but when I said ' Puif-f-f ' all the apples fell down! And it was 
just the same with the corn; it lay down before I knew that I 
had hurt it. As for the lily, that was the loveliest thing you 
ever saw, father; I only kissed it when I came away." 

" I believe that what you tell me is true, my boy; but if you 
cannot help being so rough and rude when you play, you must 
go out only when the farmer has gathered the apples and corn, 
and when the flowers have been taken safely into the house. 
When the snow is on the ground, you and Jack Frost may have 
fine frolics together." 

As told by Harriet Ryan. 



THE PIGEONS. 



To THE Teachek: — 

In " Birds of America" — Audubon's wonderful book — may be found 
detailed descriptions of all the doves and pigeons known. Much of this 
detailed description does not concern us; but I have gleaned a few facts 
which may not be too familiar to us all. 

The pigeon or dove almost invariably builds a loose, exposed nest, out 
of which eggs and birds often drop. Many pigeons will build nests in 
the same tree; doves will not. This seems to be the only difference noted 
between pigeons and doves. 

Some doves are found only in the tropics. The Carolina dove is found 
from Louisiana to Middle Massachusetts; while the Passenger pigeon 
lives everywhere in the United States except the southern tip of Florida, 
and is well known in Newfoundland. 

The average speed of the Passenger pigeon is a mile a minute; and it 
has equally remarkable power of vision, as shown by its sighting food 
from immense distances. 

From fifty to one hundred or more nests are often found in one tree. 

Audubon says that the constancy and devotion of the dove to its mate 
and its young are not excelled by any other creatures; so that we rightly 
use this beautiful bird as the emblem of love and gentleness. 



THE TALK. 

(Points of connection between this subject and the preceding 
ones of " The AVind " and " Seeds " will readily suggest them- 
selves. The farmer has gathered the seeds from the farm and 
garden, the wind has taken them from the trees and plants in 
other places. Cold weather is coming; so the birds have, most 
of them, flown away to warmer countries where they can find 
food in plenty.) 

Have the children seen any birds lately, — canaries, sparrows, 
pigeons? 



74 IN Tlili; CIJII.U'S WOKLD. 




Where do pigeous live? Wild ones in the woods; build very 
loose nests — (show with hands); tame ones in a pigeon house in 
the top of the barn; sometimes on a pole in the farmyard. 

The pigeon lays two pure white eggs. Can tly far and fast — 
a mile a minute. 

How does it sleep? Roosts on a branch, if wild; on a stick in 
pigeon house, if tame. Why does it not fall ofE ? Toes hold it 
firmly. Find out how many toes in front; how 
many behind. Watch the pigeons on the street, or 
ask father or mother about it. (Play the game of 
tlie Pigeon House and talk it over.) When we let 
the pigeons out of the pigeon house, Avhere do you think they 
will fly? Where does the song say they will fly? Will they find 
something to eat? Yes; what the farmer has not gathered, and 
what the wind has dropped and not covered up — especially seeds 
of grains. 

What do you think they talk to each other about when they 
go home again? (Try to give the children the idea of sharing 
experiences.) 

What does the pigeon say? "Coo, cool " 

A louii noise? No; always soft and gentle. 

Do we love to hear the pigeons? Do we love to hear people 
speak gently? 

Whenever we see the pigeons, or play "The Pigeon House,'* 
let us remember how gentle and loving these little birds are. 

VERSE FOR CHILDREN. 

Happy as a robin, 
Gentle as a dove — 
That's the sort of little child 
Every one will love. 




The Pigeox House. 



76 IN THE child's "WORLD. 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Daddy Darwin's Dove Cote, . . . . Mrs. Ewing 

Hilda and the Doves ("Marble Faun "), - - - Uawthorne 

The Doves, ------- Mrs. Broioniniy 

The Belfry Pigeon, N. P. Willi.'i 

The White Pigeon, ------ Miss Edgeicorth 

FOR THE CHILDREN". 
Birds and their Nests. From "Kindergarten Gems." 



STORIES. 

THE FANTAIL PIGEON. 

*'I "wonder Avhy I am not "wise !" said the little "vyhite fantail 
pigeon, sadly. " It seems to me I am not good for anything at 
all. The hens lay eggs for our mistress's breakfast; the cows give 
milk to drink and to be made into butter and cheese; the turkey- 
cock will be fatted for Christmas, he says, and will be served on 
a big dish, with a string of sausages all round him; that will be 
grand! The pigs will be made into pork, but I am good for 
nothing. The thrush and the blackbird can sing beautifully, 
and the owl is wiser than all the other birds. I cannot sing and 
I am not at all wise. Ginger, the cat, catches the rats and mice; 
Monarch, tlie dog, guards the house. But I cannot catch rats 
and mice, and how could a pigeon keep guard?" 

Poor little white pigeon I What was she to do? I am sure you 
must feel sorry for her. It is so very sad to be of no use in the 
world. 

" I will go to the owl," said she. "He is the wisest of all the 
birds. Perhaps he will teach me how to be of use." 

The owl lived in a hollow tree behind the farmyard. All day 
long he sat in his tree and blinked, for the sunshine hurt his eyes. 
That was because he was so wise, the other birds said. But when 



IN THE CHILD S WORLD. 



the sun went down and the world grew dark and still the owl 
came out from his hollow tree and flew about. He had a hooked 
beak and his eyes were large and round; he looked very solemn 
and severe, as was proper for the wisest of all the birds. 

The white pigeon flew up to the hollow tree and bent her head 
humbly before the owl. The wise old bird blinked twice, but 
said nothing, because his words were so precious. 

" Pray, sir," said the pigeon, " may I speak to you? " 

The owl blinked ngain, which if it did not mean ''yes," at any 
rate did not mean ''no."' So the pigeon went on: " Sir, you are 
very wise and I am very foolish. I am very unhappy because I 
know nothing and am good for nothing. Please, sir, will you 
help me?" 

The owl said nothing at all for a long time. The little white 
pigeon sat on a bough and waited. She said to herself: " He is 
slow, but that is certainly because he is so kind as to think very 
hard about some way to help me." 

So she waited patiently, long past the time when Jeggo gave 
all the birds in the farmyard their supper. 

Then the sun went down, and the owl opened his large, round 
eyes and looked at the little whito pigeon. 

" Now," said she, " he is going to speak; " and her heart beat 
fast with hope and excitement. 

"I am wise," said the owl; "you are foolish." Then he 
waited so long that the little pigeon ventured to put him in mind 
that he was speaking. " Yes, sir," said she; " what can I do?" 

" You must make the best of it," said the owl, and spreading 
his large, browny-white wings he flew away into the darkness, 
calling out: " Too-whit, too-whoo." 

" He has certainly much wisdom," said the little white pigeon. 
' ' But I do not see what is the good of it, if he keeps it all for 
himself like that. I want to know how to make the best of it." 
And home she went again feeling sadder than ever. 

Next day the little white pigeon was still very miserable, and 
instead of flying down as usual when her mistress came into the 
yard, she hid in a corner and hung her head. So the mistress 
went away, feeling sad and anxious; for she thought one of her 
pets was lost. 



78 IN THE child's WORLD. 

Now the old drake had a very kind heart, and watched over 
all the animals in the farmyard. He knew that the little white 
pigeon was unhappy, and made up his mind to find out what 
was amiss, and set it right if possible. He was a clever old bird, 
and had seen a deal of the world, for he was nearly three years 
old. 

He sent a message to the pigeon to say he wanted to see her, 
and she came at once. No one ever thought of disobeying the 
old drake. 

** What is wrong with you, little pigeon?" said he, kindly. 
" The sun shines; peas and Indian corn are plentiful, and you 
are not moulting; yet for three days you have done nothing but 
mope and look miserable. Come, now, and tell me what is the 
matter." 

*' I am of no use in the world," said the little pigeon, sadly. 
" All the other birds and animals are good for something, but I 
am good for nothing." 

"Oh! silly bird," said the old drake. " How can you say you 
are of no use in the world? Everything that is made is, and 
must be, of some use in the world. Some are strong and can do 
much work, like Short, the horse Avho draws the heavy cart. 
Some have the gift of teaching others, and that is what they are 
good for. Some have beautiful voices to listen to, and others 
beautiful feathers to look at. It is true that the turkey is good 
to eat and that the hen can lay eggs; it is true that the owl is 
wise and the blackbird can sing; but which of them all has such 
a pretty white tail and such nice pink feet as you?" 

" I forgot all about my tail," said the little pigeon. 

"Just so," said the old drake. "You forgot what you had, 
in fretting for what you had not. Nay, you even neglected 
your gift and let your pretty Avhite tail get all dirty and 
crumpled. So it happened that our mistress went away sad this 
morning, because her little white bird did not come to greet her. 
Go away home, little pigeon, and do not be miserable any more. 
Make the best of what you can do, and never mind the things 
you cannot do." 

Then the little pigeon thanked the old. drake for his good 
advice. She went home and put her feathers tidy, and I need 



IN THE child's WORLD. T9 

hardly tell you that next day the mistress did not look in vain 

for her pretty, white pet. 

Mary Dendy. 

'^Lesson Stories,''^ the Sunday School Association, London. 



PEARL AND HER PIGEONS. 

When Pearl was seven years old her brother Freddie gave her 
two pretty white pigeons. The little girl was as happy as a queen 
when she saw her pretty pets. She named one Dot and the other 
Phil. Pearl loved dearly to jilay with them, but she did not like 
to keep them shut up in a cage. 

Sometimes she would open the window and say to them: '' Fly 
away, my dearies, and phiy with other birds! I do not wish to 
keep you here this beautiful morning." They would flutter their 
wings joyously, peck her hand, and make a funny little noise 
which sounded very much like "good-bye, sweet mistress! We 
will return soon, and tell you all about the sunny world, and what 
the birds are doing." 

When Pearl want out into the garden to pull flowers, or give 
her dollies a ride the pigeons would come to her and light upon 
her head; and sometimes they would poke their bills into her 
mouth for a kiss. 

She fed them with crumbs from her hand, and every morning 
she gave them some fresh, sparkling water to bathe in. 

Phil called Dot his little wife, and he often invited her to take 
a walk with him. When Dot was not busy she went with him. 
In the l)eautiful springtime Dot laid five white eggs and sat on 
them till the wee birds crept out. Dot and Phil were as happy 
as they could be, and so proud of their little family! Pearl put 
crumbs enough for all beside the nest, which pleased Mother Dot 
very much. Then she would sit down beside the cage and watch 
the mother-pigeon patiently teaching the little ones to eat. 

Pearl often heard the mother-bird putting her little family to 
sleep; and she would say to her darling baby brother: '^ Listen, 
dear! I hear the mother-pigeon cooing softly to her little ones. 

Helen A. Keller. 



80 IN THE child's WORLD. 



THE CONSTANT DOVE. 

The white dove sat on the sunny eaves, 

And " What will you do when the north wind grieves ? " 

She said to the busy nut-hatch small, 

Tapping above in the gable tall. 

He probed each crack with his slender beak, 
And much too busy was he to speak; 
Spiders, that thought themselves safe and sound, 
And moths, and flies, and cocoons, he found. 

Oh! but the white dove she was fair! 
Bright she shone in the autumn air, 
Turning her head from the left to right — 
Only to watch her was such delight ! 

" Coo!" she murmured, "poor little thing, 
What will you do when the frosts shall sting ? 
Spiders and flies will be hidden or dead, 
Snow underneath and snow overhead." 

Nut-hatch paused in his busy care; 
"And what will you do, O white dove fair '?" 
" Kind hands feed me with crumbs and grain. 

And I wait with patience for spring again." 

He laughed so loud that his laugh I heard ; 
" How can you be such a stupid bird ? 
What are your wings for, tell me, pray, 
But to bear you from tempest and cold away ? 

" Merrily off to the south I '11 fly. 
In search of the summer, by and by. 
And warmth and beauty I '11 find anew; 

white dove fair, will you follow, too ? " 

But she cooed content on the sunny eaves. 
And looked askance at the reddening leaves; 
While low I whispered, " O white dove true, 

1 '11 feed you, and love you the winter through !" 

Celia Thaxteb. 
Eovghton, Mifflin & Co. 



THE DOVE AND THE ANT. 

The Ant, compelled by thirst, went to drink iu a clear, purling- 
rivulet; but the current, with its circling eddy, snatched her away, 
and carried her down the stream. A Dove, ])ir.ying her distressed 



ijsr THE child's world. 81 

condition, cropped a branch from a neighboring tree, and let it 
fall into the water, by means of which the Ant saved herself, and 
got ashore. Not long after a fowler, having a design upon the 
Dove, planted his nets in due order, without the bird's observing 
what he was about; which the Ant perceiving, just as he was 
going to put his design in execution, she bit him on the heel, and 
made him give so sudden a start that the Dove took the alarm, 
and flew away. 

^Esop. 



A TRUE PIGEON STORY. 

A gentleman had two pairs of pigeons living in dovecotes placed 
side by side. In each pigeon family there was a father and 
mother-bird and two little ones. On a certain day the parents 
in one dovecote went away to get food, and while they were gone 
one of their little birds fell out of the dovecote and down to the 
ground. The poor baby bird was not much hurt, strange to say, 
but it could not get back for it was too young to fly. 

Now the parents in the other dovecote were at home when this 
happened and it seemed as if they said to themselves: ''' One of our 
babies might fall out in just that same way. We must do some- 
thing to make the dovecote safer." And then this wise, careful 
father and mother went to work. They flew about until they 
found some small sticks. These they carried to their own dove- 
cote and there in the doorway they built a cunning little fence of 
sticks! Not so high but that the baby pigeons could look over 
it, but high enough to keep them from ever falling out of the 
dovecote as their little neighbor had done. The owner of the 
pigeons, who had seen the birdling fall and had put it back inta 
its dovecote, watched the birds the whole time as they gathered 
the sticks and built the little fence across the doorway. This is 
a true story and it is often told to some children in Boston by a 
lady who knows the owner of these very pigeons. 

M. P. 



THE BAKER. 



To THE Teachek: 



Froebel believed that " Pat-a-cake " and similar ji;ames " arose because 
people felt that the cultivation of the child's love of activity and his striv- 
ing to get the use of his limbs ought to be carried on in such a way as to 
lift him at once into the complexity of his outside life." Thus, in the 
"Pat-a-cake" play, instead of the simple relation of need and supply 
between child and mother — the child needing food and the mother giving 
it — the child is shown another "link of the great chain of life's inner 
dependence," in the baker who bakes the bread and cake which the 
mother gives to the child. 

"Whenever opportunity occurs," says Froibel, "make this inner 
dependence of life clear, visible, impressive, tangible and perceptible to 
your child, even though it be in only a few of the essential links of this 
great chain, until you come to the last ring that holds all the rest — God's 
father-love for all." 

Of course, in foreign countries, where it is common for the mother to 
prepare bread and cake, etc., and send it to the baker to have it baked, 
the relation is closer; but even in this country the baker is near to the 
child's life. Food being a primary necessity, the baker, the miller and 
the farmer who are the providers of food, are among the first of the 
■■world's workers which the kindergarten brings to the child's notice. 



THE TALK. 

Some of tlie children liave dear little babies in their homes. 
What does baby play? Does baby play " Pat-a-cake?" ' Shall we 
play it? 

(After playing baby's ''Pat-a-cake," — the old Mother Goose 
rhyme, — teach the children the kindergarten jilay, "Now, my 
child," etc., which is, after all, only an extension of the same idea 
and principle.) 




Thk Baker. 



83 



IN THE €HILI> S WORLD. 



Recall a little of the talk with the children about the jiigeons, 
and speak especially about the food. The point to be brought 
out is that the pigeon's food is ready for it, whereas the child's 
food, our food, must generally be prepared. 

The pigeon likes grains of wheat. Do we like grains of wheat? 
Tell some of the things we do like to eat; meat, potatoes, bread, 
etc., etc. Where does the bread come from? From the baker. 
Where did the baker get his flour? From the miller. Where 
did the miller get the wheat to grind? From the farmer. So 
the story of the bread is quite a long story, isn't it? And tells of 
a great many workers. 

Sometimes the mother makes the bread instead of buying it at 
the baker's. Have any of the children seen their mothers make 
bread? Who can tell how she does it, and what she uses? 

W^hat kind of an oven does she bake the bread in? Have the 
children ever been to a baker's shop? What does the baker make? 
What kind of an oven does he have? A very, very large one; as 
large as a small room (eight feet by ten feet). He uses something 
like a big shovel with a long handle when he puts the loaves into 
the oven or takes them out. The baker also uses a large mixing 
trough instead of a bread pan; long, smooth table instead of bread 
board; rolling-pins, cooky cutters, baking tins, etc., etc. 

The baker must build a fire and heat his oven before the bread 
-can be baked. 

(Speak a little upon the usefulness of fire. If advisable, more 
links of the chain of dependence could be disclosed here, in the 
wood chopper and the miner whose work prepares the wood and 
scoal for the baking of th^e bread.) 



liNT THE child's WORLD. 85 



TEACHER'SREADING. 

Each and All, - - - - - - R. W. Emerson 

Daily Bread, (Sermon 1879), - - - - E. E. Hale 

Daily Bread, (Stories), - - - - - E. E. Hale 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

Amy Stewart, ) ^^u Kindersjarten Stories and Morning 

The Little Cookie Boy, > ^ ^ ,, ,,7 ^ _, ,„.,, 

The Baker, ( Talks"), - - - S. E. Wiltse 



STORIES. 



THE JOHNNY CAKE, 

Little Sarah, she stood by her grandmother's bed, 
"'And what shall I get for your breakfast?" she said. 
"You shall get me a johnny cake; quickly go make it. 

In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it." 

So Sarah, she went to the closet to see 

If yet any meal in the barrel might be. 

The barrel had long time been empty as wind; 

Not a si)eck of the bright yellow meal could she find. 

But grandmother's johnny cake — still she must make it, 

In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it. 

She ran to the shop, but the shopkeeper said, 
"I have none — you must go to the miller, fair maid. 
For he has a mill, and he '11 put the corn in it, 
And grind you some nice yellow meal in a minute; 
But run, or the johnny cake, how will you make it, 
In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it ?" 

Then Sarah, she ran everj"^ step of the way, 

But the miller said, " No, I have no meal to-day; 

Run, quick, to the cornfield, just over the hill. 

And if any be there, you may fetch it to mill. 

Run, run, or the johnny cake, how will you make it, 

In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it?" 



SQ IN THK child's WORLD. 



Then Sarah looked round, and she saw what was wanted: 
The corn could not grow, for no corn had been planted. 
She asked of the farmer to sow her some grain, 
But the farmer he laughed till his sides ached again; 
"Ho! ho! for the johnny cake — how can you make it, 
In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it "?" 

The farmer he laughed, and he laughed out aloud — 
"And how can I plant till the earth has been ploughed ? 
Run^ run to the ploughman, and bring him with speed; 
He'll plough up the ground, and I'll fill it with seed." 
Away, then, ran Sarah, still hoping to make it, 
In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it. 

The ploughman he ploughed, and the grain it was sown, 
And the sun shed his rays till the corn was all grown. 
It was ground at the mill, and again in her bed 
These words to poor Sarah the grandmother said : 
" You shall get me a johnny cake, (juickly go make it, 
In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it."' 

Anonymous. 



THE CHINA RABBIT FAMILY. 

Mrs. China Rabbit and her four little rabbits were very much 
crowded. They lived in a small pasteboard box, and there was 
scarcely room for their legs and paws. As for their long ears — 
why, Mrs. China Rabbit and Hoppit actually had to poke theirs 
through the broken corners of the topi 

" Be patient, my children," the mother would say. '' This 
cannot last always; and we ought to be thankful that we have 
this soft cotton to lie on, at any rate."' 

It is no wonder that the little China Rabbits grumbled. How 
would you like to live in a house so small that you had to lie 
just the way you would fit in best, whether it was comfortable 
or not? 

The shabby pasteboard box filled with the China Rabbits was 
in a toy shop. Furthermore, the toy shop was near Baby Bun's 
house. More than that, Baby Bun's mamma went into the toy 
shop one day. And, best of all, she bought the whole China 
Rabbit family! 



IN THE child's WORLD. 87 

When she reached home she gave them to the cook; and the 
cook smiled and nodded, and said: "Oh, yes'm! I'll do it 
with pleasure for the little boy, bless his heart! " and she imme- 
diately went to work to bake a cake. 

Mrs. China Rabbit and Houpit and the other China Rabbits 
were soon taken out of their crowded house. The cook gave 
them a good bath, and then she put each in a bed of cake dough, 
in a tiny tin, and set all the tins in the oven. 

When the oven door was shut, and the cook could not hear, 
Mrs. China Rabbit called out: " Hoppit, my child?" 

"Here I am, mother!" said Hoppit. "Is Chubby here?'' 
said Mrs. China Rabbit. " Yes; here I am," said Chubby. 

" And Johnny Jumper? " " Yes," .Johnny Jumper answered,, 
and so also did Tiny, the baby. 

" This is well," said Mrs. China Rabbit. " Are you all com- 
fortable?" 

"Oh! it is delightful!" said the children. 

As the cakes began to bake, however, Mrs. China Rabbit and 
the children found it rather warm. They had never felt such 
heat. They almost wished themselves back in the pasteboard 
box. " For, at least, the ventilation was good!" gasped Hoppit. 

Just as they thought they would die of the heat, the oven door 
opened with a clang. "They're Just done beautiful!" they 
heard the cook say, and soon all the little cakes were cooling on 
the pantry shelf, and the China Rabbit family quickly revived. 

" Shall we live here always, mother?" asked Chubby. 

" I do not know, my dear," said Mrs. China Rabbit; "but let 
us enjoy it while we may. These are sweet little homes." 

"Yes, I've tasted mine," said Johnny Jumper, smacking 
his lips. 

At this all the China Rabljits begun to nibble the cake. " No 
one Avill grudge us a little lunch, I am sure," the mother said. 

Very soon the cook jiut the cakes upon a pretty plate and sent 
them to the nursery. Baby and his brothers and sisters were 
having a tea party; and when the children had eaten their bread 
and butter, they each had one of the "fairy cakes," as Baby's; 
mamma called them. 

"Oh! there's something hard in my cake! " said Baby, who 



fe8 IX THE GUILDS WORLD. 

had taken a big bite. ''So there is in minel'' "And minel" 
"And mine!" shouted the other children. 

You know what they had found, don't you ? 

Yes! Of course it was Mrs. China Rabbit, and Hoppit, and 
Chubby, and Johnny Jumper, and Tiny! And the China Rab- 
bit family lived happily ever after among the other playthings 
in the nursery toy closet. 

Emilie Poulsson. 



TEDDY'S BIRTHDAY CAKE. 

Outline/or Simple Htory. 

Teddy's birthday — little friends invited. Mamma's plan of 
/jirthday cake, wiih as many candles on it as Teddy is 3"ears old. 
Eggs, flour, butter, sugar, milk, all ready to mix. Mamma looks 
at oven, finds stove broken so that oven could not bake the cake 
nicely. Is puzzled to know what to do; cannot bear to disappoint 
Teddy; thinks of the baker, mixes cake and takes it to the bakery. 
Leaves it; baker watches it as it bakes, takes it out with his long 
shovel. When Mamma goes to the bakery for it, she pays and 
thanks the baker. Enjoyment of the cake. Mamma tells how 
the kind baker helped her out of her trouble. 

E. P. 



NERO AT THE BAKERY. 

" There! " said the Baker, as he took the last loaf of bread out 
of the oven, "that's as handsome a batch of bread as ever was 
baked. I'll take it right upstairs to the store." 

Very soon little Sophie came into the bakery and said, "My 
mother wants a loaf of fresh bread, please." 

"Here it is," said the Baker, "just fresh from the oven. It 
will keep your hands warm all the way home." So saying he 
wrapped the bread in a brown paper and handed it to the little 
^irl, wlio then gave him the money for it. 



IN THE child's WORLD. 89 

As she opened the door to go out, a big dog walked in, — a great 
shaggy fellow with a basket in his mouth. He was all alone, but 
he evidently knew just what to do. Sophie stopped to look, for 
she had never known a dog to go to the store before. 

♦'Why, here is Nero! Good dogi Good Nero!" said the 
Baker. "Have you come for the bread?" 

Nero walked to the Baker and held his head up, as if to offer 
the basket. In the basket was the money for a loaf of bread. 
The Baker put the money in the money drawer and then waited 
to see what the dog would do. 

Nero looked at him as if surprised, and then gave a sharp 
'' Bow-wow! " 

"Well, it is too bad to tease such a good dog as you are — 
here's your bread,"' said the Baker, taking down a loaf. He 
wrapped it in paper and placed it in the basket and the dog 
wagged his tail with delight. Then, taking his basket again, 
he stalked out of the door which Sophie held open and walked 
up the street. Sophie's home lay in the same direction, so she 
walked on behind Nero and saw him walk steadily along and 
then cross the street and go into the house where a lady was 
watching for him. 

"Guess what I saw at the bakery!" said Sophie when she 
reached home. Her mother and father and the children guessed 
and guessed. Pies, cakes, cookies, rolls, biscuits, doughnuts, 
buns, gingerbread, gingerbread men, muffins — yes, Sophie had 
seen all these, but they were not what she meant. At last when 
all the things usually seen in a bakery had been guessed, Sophie 
told about Nero, the clever dog who had bought a loaf of bread. 

Emilie Poulsson. 



THANKSGIVING DAY. 

To THE Teacher: — 

This subject has many important sides. It is a harvest feast, a day for 
giving tlianks, a festival of family reunions, aday of interesting historical 
origin, a purely American holiday and therefore a time for instilling and 
cultivating patriotic feeling. 

Can we compass all these aspects of the subject with the children? 
Surely not, if we depend on the morning talk and story alone, or if we 
have not prepared the way. But the farmer and the harvest are already 
familiar; the children's hearts and voices are attuned to hymns of grati- 
tude and songs of family love; and we have worked towards patriotism 
by taking loving notice of our beautiful flag, by singing " My Country, 
'tis of Thee," cheering the red, white and blue, etc. Therefore the many- 
sidedness of the subject is not so much an objection as might at first 
appear, but rather offers a valuable opportunity for recalling and deep- 
ening impressions; — each teacher emphasizing particularly that aspect 
of the subject which is most desirable for her pupils. 

The Thanksgiving Day of the Pilgrims, with the Indians sharing their 
feast, is a beautiful story; but it is so admirably told in Mrs. Wiggin's 
book, "The Story Hour," and is besides so familiar, that I have not 
attempted to retell it; but have chosen instead the local story*, which may 
not be quite so well known, although Mr. Hale has told it in bis own 
delightful fashion in his church in Boston on Thanksgiving Day. 



THE TALK. 



Do you remember that the baker was the worker we talked 
of hist week? What other workers can you name? 

What did the farmer do in the autumn? Gathered seeds to 



* ■' ' The Governor,' says Mather, ' was the Joseph unto whom the whole body of the 
people repaired when the corn failed them, and he continued relieving of them with his 
open-handed bounties as long as he had any stock.' When his last batch of bread was 
in his oven he gave ' the last handful of meal in his barrel to a poor man depressed by 
the wolf at the door.' At that moment they ' spied a ship arrived at the harbor's mouth 
laden with provisions for them all.' A day of thanksgiving for this ship's arrival was 
held on the 22d of February— the first Thanksgiving Day recorded by the Puritans of the 
Bay colony." 



IX THE child's world. 91 

save for next year; yes, and gathered in his harvest. (Children 
name seeds; and name fruits, and vegetables, etc., harvested for 
winter.) 

How happy and thankful the farmer feels when he tliinks of 
his cellar stored with apples, potatoes, etc., for his family all 
winter; and of his barns full of hay and oats and corn, etc., for 
the animals. And because harvest time brings all these things, 
and is so joyful, people thought it would be the best time to have 
a special day for giving thanks to God. 

Now let us sing the Thanksgiving song, and jilay that this is 
Thanksgiving Day and that we are all at grandmother's house. 

How glad we are to see her and grandfather and all the uncles 
and aunts and cousins! We run into the kitchen and peep into 
the big oven — an old-fashioned one, very much like the one the 
baker has. Oh I how good everything smellsl And there is the 
big turkey! — isn't he a monster? What else is being prepared 
for dinner? 

(Children always sing with unction: — 

" Hurrah for the fun, 
Is the pudding done? 
Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!" 

But we do not want them to think of the good things merely as 
eatables. A hint of the right way to talk of the dinner is found in 
the fact that the Thanksgiving feast was formerly intended to show 
forth some of everything that had been raised on the farm, thus 
representing the bounteousness of the whole harvest for which 
the thanks were given.) 

Soon we go to church. We sit nicely and do not talk, and we 
sing as well as we can. (Sing some song expressing thanks. 
This will be the time to make " the spiritual meaning of the 
day bright and clear.'' Direct the children's thoughts to causes 
for thankfulness — universal and special — and to showing thank- 
fulness by deed as well as by word. 

When the regular playtime comes, let it be the afternoon 
merry-making at grandmother's.) 



y-2 IX THE GUILDS WOULD. 



TEACHER'S READING. 



Pilgrims aud Puritans, ------ Moore 

The Old New-England Home, - Christian Union, November, 1891 

Things that Hinder Thankfulness (Sermon), - - Minot J. Savage 

Love of Country (" Great Thoughts for Little 

Thinkers"), ------ Lucia T. Ames 

The Pilgrim Fathers, ------ Remans 

"Come, Ye Thankful People, Come," - . - - Hymn 

For an Autumn Festival, ------ Whittier 

The Pumpkin, ------- Whittier 

A Tardy Thanksgiving, - - - - - M. E. Wilkins 

Getting Ready for Thanksgiving, - - - bt. Nicholas, 1879 

Peter Crisp's Spectacles (" New Lights on Old Paths "), Charles Foster 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

The First Thanksgiving Day (" The Story Hour " ), - K. D. Wir/gin 
Thanksgiving Story ("Kindergarten Stories and Morning 

Talks"), - - - - - - - S. E. WUtse 

Peggy's Thanksgiving Visitor (" Stories for Kindergarten and 

Home"), - - - - - - M. L. Van Kirk 

Chusey, the Thanksgiving Turkey (" A New Years 

Bargain"), ------ Susan CooUdge 



IN THE child's WORLD. 



03 



STORIES. 




A BOSTON THANKSGIVING STORY. 

Once upon a time Boston, unci 
indeed this whole land, was covered 
witli trees instead of houses; and 
there were no streets, no stores, no 
churches, no big buildings of any 
kind. Yet people lived here — In- 
dians — who loved to live in the 
woods. There were no carpenters 
among the Indians, so they did not 
build real houses, but had tents or 
wigwams. 

By and by som.e people like us 
came to this land; but as they came 
in winter the farmers could not plant 
anything, the ground being frozen; 
and so the miller had no wheat to grind into flour, and the baker 
had no flour to make bread of, and there was very little for the 
people to eat. They had fish, and clams, and such things, but 
often had to go hungry. A ship, which they had sent across 
the great ocean to luring them more provisions, had been gone so 
long that it seemed as if it must be lost; and the poor, hungry 
people did not know what they should do. 

One day some of the little South Boston boys were at play on 
a hill near the water, and they saw a ship sailing toward the 
land. They knew that the ship would bring plenty of food for 
all the hungry people, so away they ran to tell their fathers and 
mothers and the neighbors about it. Can't you imagine how 
glad they were to spread such joyful news? Very soon the ship 
came to shore and was unloaded. (Let the children tell what 
the ^^hip probably brought, and get them to imagine how busy 
the mothers were, cooking and baking for the hungry ])eop]^; 
and how glad they all were to have enough to eat again.) 



^4 IN^ THK child's world. 

Yes! the people were so glad that they wanted to thank the 
Heavenly Father; and they said: " Let us have a day for giving 
thanks." So they had a Thanksgiving Day. They went to 
church and thanked God for all his goodness, and then had a 
joyful time at home. 

Other people who had come to America had special days for 
giving thanks; they finally all agreed to keep the same day. 
And so for a long time we have had the one general Thanks- 
giving Day over the whole land. E. P. 



HOW PATTY GAVE THANKS. 

Ah! how snug it was in the barn that cold November night! 
Earmer Gray shut all the doors as if it were winter weather, and 
then went away glad to think that the animals were warm and com- 
fortable for the night. No sooner had the sound of his foot- 
steps died away than a Cow raised her head and gave a faint 
bellow. 

"^Newsl" said she, ''News! Something beautiful happened 
to me to-day. It was just before I was turned out into the field 
this morning. Little Patty came running up to me and began 
to stroke my forehead. 'You good old cow!' said she; 'I had 
some milk to drink at breakfast and I know who gave it to me, 
and so I have come to say thank you. Mother told me this 
morning that this was " Thank-you " day;" and then the dear 
child put a delicious apple into my mouth and laughed to hear 
me crunch it! I am so glad that my milk is good and rich. 
And she thanked me for butter and cream and for her papa's 
•cheese, too, — the grateful child!"' 

"You say well, Neighbor Cow; a grateful child she is," said 
the farm Horse. "I was in the stall just before they harnessed 
me to take the family to church, and little Patty came to see 
me, too; and she thanked me for all the rides she had had on my 
back and in the haycart, and for dragging the plough and for 
bringing the flour from the mill. Then, bless her heart! she 
reached up and gave me a big mouthful of sweet-smelling hay. 
I tell you, I '11 trot my prettiest the next time I have her in the. 




Patty Thanking Old Bob. 



95 



96 IN THE child's would. 

carriage!" Bob gave a pleased whinny as he said this, and, as 
if in response, a noise came from the sheep barn. The sheep 
barn joined the hirger barn, and at the doorway between stood a 
mild-faced sheep, who began to speak in her own way. 

" So little Patty went to you, too, did she? I can tell you I 
was surprised when she brought me and the rest of the flock an 
extra dish of salt this morning, ' This is to say, thank you, 
good Sheep,' said she. 'We talked about you in the kinder- 
garten and I know that our worsted balls are made of your wool, 
and my new mittens, and my flannel petticoat, and my winter 
coat and dress, and Jackie's clothes, and the blankets — and oh, 
so many things! How funny you would look with them all on 
your back! ' Then she felt of my wool and patted me with her 
gentle little hand. I do hope that my fleece will be a good 
heavy one this year, and how I wish that the wool might be used 
for little Patty!" 

" Well, well!" said the Cow, "the child did make it a real 
' Thank-you day,' I am sure; for besides thanking me, and you, 
Bob, and you, Mrs. Fleecy, I heard the Hens saying to-day that 
she had been showering corn down for them by the double 
handful and saying 'thank you ' for the eggs which they had 
given her. She told them that she liked the eggs for break- 
fast, and that her mamma made cake with them, too. I wonder 
what put it into her head to come and thank us all." 

"It was her good little heart that put it into her head," said 
Bob, wisely; " and I think I know the reason why she came to- 
day, for as I was trotting along the road to and from church, I 
heard the family talking a good deal about to-day being Thanks- 
giving Day. And when Patty's grandpajja asked her if she 
knew why Thanksgiving Day was kept, she said: * Oh, yes! It 
is the day to say "thank you " for everything, and that is why I 
hurried out to the barn this morning.'" 

"And to whom did you say 'thank you' out there?" asked 
her grandpapa. 

" Why, to all of them" answered Patty; " to Bob and Moolly 
cow, and the sheep and the hens." 

"Very good," said Grandpapa, "very good indeed, little 
Thankful-heart. I am glad you thought of the kind, useful 



IN THE child's AVORLD. 97 

creatures from whom we get so many things for our pleasure 
and comfort." 

As Bob repeated what Patty's grandpapa had said, sober Mrs. 
Fleecy gave a little caper of delight, and Moolly Cow heaved a 
sigh of deep satisfaction. Kind, grateful words are pleasant to 
any ears. 

It was now bedtime and the animals began to settle them- 
selves for their night's rest. Mrs. Fleecy went back to her woolly 
companions in the sheep barn; Moolly cow sank down restfully 
in her stall; and Bob, after stamping and tramping a few times, 
bent his long legs under him and lay down upon his fresh straw 
bedding. But before they went to sleep they spoke again of 
how happy dear little Patty had made them with her thanks 
and her gifts. 

Emilie Poulsson. 



A MORNING THANKSGIVING. 

For this new raornin<T with its light, 
For rest and shelter of the night. 
For health and food, for love and friends. 
For everything his goodness sends. 
We thank the Heavenly Father. 

M. J. Gael AND. 



WINTER. 



To THE Teacher: — 



In this talk we consider the seasons, the action of cold — personified as 
Jack Frost — and preparation for winter. 

For further matter on the subject of crystallization — see the story of 
"Snow flakes." 



THE TALK, 

What day of the week is to-day? What month is it? Proba- 
bly few if any of the children will be able to tell. Is it summer? 
No, summer is past. (Children tell some of the characteristics 
of summer — hot weather, much sunshine, flowers, grass, birds, 
bees, butterflies, everything growing.) 

Is it autumn? Just the very end of autumn. (Children tell 
characteristics of autumn — colder weather, falling leaves, birds 
flying to warmer countries, etc.) 

And now winter is coming, (Children tell characteristics of 
winter — bare trees, birds gone, no flowers, bees and butterflies to 
be seen out of doors.) And what will come after winter? (Chil- 
dren tell characteristics of spring. Teacher then contrasts the 
characteristics of summer and winter, and speaks of the shorter 
days which we have in the latter season.) 

AVhich of the winds will be out to play most of the time now? 
Did you ever hear the North Wind whistle or blow a bugle? Play 
that North Wind is in the kindergarten now. 

Some one else comes " when the wintry winds begin to bellow." 
(If this does not bring Jack Frost's name from the children, give 
more of the words of this song or the other Jack Frost song, or 
hum the tune.) 

What does Jack Frost do? Helps to color leaves, opens the 
chestnut burrs and other seed vessels so that the wind can sow 
the seeds; makes pretty Avhite pictures on the windows. When 



IN TUE child's world. 99 

Jack Frost first comes, in the autumn, he only makes short 
visits in the night; but in the winter he stays all the time. la 
the country he puts a thin sparkling carpet over the fields and 
covers the brooks with a glassy roof. In the city he touches the 
water on the sidewalks and makes ''slides" for the children. I 
want to tell you another thing Jack Frost does. But will you 
tell me, first, what hides the sun some days so that we cannot 
see the sunshine at all? Yes, the clouds. Sometimes when 
there are gray clouds floating about in the sky. Jack Frost and 
North Wind fly up there. North Wind goes to the clouds and 
blows and whistles, and, what do you think! out come the little 
raindrops that were sleeping in the clouds — all wide awake and 
ready to go down to the earth, they think. But Jack Frost is 
watching for them; and as fast as they come out of the cloud, 
he says: " Don't you want to wear your white dresses this time? " 
And then he touches them, and each little raindrop is immedi- 
ately all white and sparkling, and has really become a beautiful 
snow star or snowflake. So, instead of the rain which might 
have come down to the earth when North Wind called the sleep- 
ing raindrops out of the clouds, we have a beautiful snowstorm, 
all because Jack Frost was there. 

(Speak of the snow as a protective covering for plant life, and 
of the fun to be had with sleds, snowballs, snow men, etc.) 

How did the birds get ready for winter? Most of them by 
flying away. Have the sparrows and the pigeons gone? They 
stay with us and we like to have them, and must feed thein 
sometimes, as they cannot find food easily in winter. How did 
the squirrels get ready for winter? How did the farmer get 
ready for winter? How do we? Mother makes warm clothes 
for the children; father works and buys coal to make the house 
cosy and warm. Children must be careful not to lose the mit- 
tens which mother gives them. 

The following is a pretty winter motto: — 

" The skies may meet in sadness, 
The blustering winds may blow; 
But if our hearts are clieery 
There's bunsliine where we go." 



100 



IN THE child's WOULD. 



TEACHER'S READING. 



Architecture of Snow (" Forms of Water"), 

The Fairyland of Science, 

The Story Mother Nature Told, 

Stories in the Snow ( " Sharp Eyes " ), 

The Snow Image, - . . . 

The Snowstorm, . . . . 

Snow Bound, - . - - . 

The Approach of Winter, - - . 

The First Snowfall, - - . . 
Winter, ------ 

Vision of Sir Launfal, - - - - 

December, - . . . . 

The Snow Shower, - . . - 



Tyndall 
Arabella Buckley 

- Jane Andrews 

- W. H. Gibson 

Hawthorne 
Emerson 
Whittier 

W. Procter 

- Lowell 
Tennyson 

- Lowell 
P. Cranch 

- Bryant 



B. 



a 



FOR THE CHILDREN. 



The Frost, 

A Story for Willie Winkie, 

The Snowflakes, 

Tlie Ant and the Grasshopper, 

Bright, Sprite and White, 



H. Gould 



I '■ Kindergarten Stories and Morning 
( Talks", - - - S.E, 



Wiltse 
^sop 
Holmes' Third Reader 



IN THE child's WORLD. 101 



STORIES. 

THE THRIFTY SQUIRRELS. 

In the hollow oak tree on the lawn a squirrel had made his 
home. He was such a pretty fellow, with his bright eyes aud long, 
bushy tail. He was prudent, too, as well as pretty. That is, he 
was very careful about little things, and brought up his family 
to be the same. His family was Mrs. Squirrel and three little 
squirrels, and they were all of them just as careful and orderly as 
could be. There was never so much as a nut end or the rind of 
an acorn wasted in Mr. Squirrel's house, and one of the very first 
things he and Mrs. Squirrel taught their children was to lay up a 
store of food to eat in the winter months. They were nice little 
things, the little squirrels: bright, good-tempered, and obedient. 
The eldest, whose name was Brownie, was already able to make an 
acorn pie, or a nut pudding with chestnut sauce, almost as well 
as her mother. 

On this cold winter day about which I have been telling you, 
Mr. and Mrs. Squirrel, with Brownie, and the little ones, were 
sitting at tea in the old hollow tree on the lawn. The afternoon 
was changing into evening, and the light was nearly gone, when 
there came a. tiny tap at the door. It was a very weak little tap, 
eo low that Mrs. Squirrel was not sure that any one had knocked, 
and listened until it came again. Then Mr. Squirrel got up and 
opened the door. At first he saw no one. " Who is there?'" he 
asked, in his pleasant, cheerful voice. 

"It is I, neighbor," said some one outside, sadly. " I am nearly 
famished with hunger and starved with cold. Will you let me 
come in for a while and warm myself?'' 

Mr. Squiri'el at once opened the door wide and said: " Walk 
in, walk in. It is a bitter cold night, to be sure. Walk in and 
let me shut the door; my tail is nearly frozen just with standing 
here." 

Then there came hopping into the house-place a rabbit. Poor 
Bunny! how miserable he did look! His fur was all dirty and 



lU:i ix Tiiii child's world. 

ragged, and bis poor little tail hung down behind instead of stand- 
ing up nice and stiff, as a good rabbit's tail ought to do. His ears 
dropped, and his whiskers were broken and limp. He had bad 
rheumatism in one hind leg, and his eyes, which should have been 
as bright as Mr. Squirrel's, were dull and dim. Altogether, he 
looked as shabby and sad as a bunny could; not in the least like 
a respectable, well-brought-up rabbit. 

Mrs. Squirrel threw up both her front paws in dismay. Mr. 
Squirrel made haste to put poor Bunny into a chair beside the 
fire, whilst Brownie brought him her own slice of beech-nut bread. 
Poor Bunny ate it eagerly, and for a little while all the family of 
squirrels was too much taken up in attending to his wants to ask 
any questions. When he was Avarmed and rested, Mrs. Squirrel 
sent all her little ones to bed, and she and Mr. Squirrel began to 
try to find out what had brought their jioor neighbor into such 
a sad plight. 

" How could I help it? " said he mournfully. " I did not know 
that it would be so cold, nor that the snow would be so deep that 
I should not be able to get a bit of winter cabbage to eat. I am 
sure I am willing to work; I would take any trouble, but it is not 
a bit of use. Indeed, neighbor Squirrel, I do not know how you 
have managed." And he looked enviously round the neat, warm 
little room. 

"It was very simple," said Mr. Squirrel, gravely. ""We all 
helped, and we put away some of everything we found. If we 
found six nuts we put away three in our storeroom, and nuts and 
acorns Avere very plentiful this autumn. So, though the winter 
is so very hard, we shall have plenty, and plenty for a friend, too, 
neighbor, so eat as much as you will, and don't spare the loaf." 

It was very kind of Mr. Squirrel, but he could not help poor 
Bunny much. He had been such an idle, wandering fellow that 
he could not be content to stay with Mr. and Mrs. Squirrel quietW, 
and help to do the work of the house, so in a few days he wan- 
dered away again. 

As he shivered in the cold blasts and tried in vain to satisfy his 
hunger, he often wished that he had been as prudent and thrifty 
as the Squirrel family. And the Squirrel family, being as kind- 
hearted as they were prudent, often thought of the poor Eabbit 




I'OOK BUXNY. 



104 IN THE ClIlLl/s WUJtLD. 

with pity, and wondered how he was getting on; but they never 
heard of him again. 

Mary Dendy. 

" Lesso7i Stories," The Sunday School Association, London. 



JACK FROST AND HIS WORK. 

''Ho! ho!" said Jack Frost one cold evening near the end of 
Autumn, " this is just the kind of night I have been waiting for. 
The clouds have been thick enough to keep back the heat of the 
sun, and North Wind has been out all day telling jieople that I 
should be around to-night. Sometimes I like to surprise j)eople; 
but I find that I am not always welcome when I make my visits 
unexpectedly, so this time I have sent word, and I hope that no 
one will grumble. It is a fine night for work." 

So Jack Frost packed his box and started off. By this time 
the sun and the clouds were gone, and the stars shone clear and 
bright in the dark sky. The air was keen and cold but very still, 
for North Wind had gone to sleep at sunset. 

As Jack Frost had thought, people Avere expecting him that 
night. The farmer had had the young calves brought in from 
the pasture where they had been all summer. The barn doors 
were shut early and all the animals were made comfortable for 
the night. People took in their plants and gathered tlie autumn 
flowers from their gardens. "These are the last for this year," 
they said; ''Jack Frost will destroy everything to-night." Mothers 
went about to the children's beds, putting extra blankets over 
them, so that the little ones should be snug and warm and cosy. 
In fact, owing to Jack Frost's kind warning, most people were 
ready for him by the time he began his work. 

In the box which Jack Frost carried he had jiaint brnslies 
large and small, and a paint box. He had also some sp;i.rkling 
stuff of a silvery white. This was what he used on the 
window panes. Some coarser stuff of the same kind was for 
making the ground white. All his tools were not of this kind, 
however. Jack Frost makes many things beautiful, but he also 



IX THE child's would. 105 

destroys. It is part of his work to prepare the earth for winter 
by pinching the hite flowers and nipping the grasses and harden- 
ing the ground; so, besides the paints and paint brushes which he 
had in his box, lie had sliarp nippers and pincers, and hammers, 
and such things. 

When Jack Frost came to the chestnut trees, he said, " Oh ! the 
nuts are ripe! I must oj^en the burrs so that the squirrels and the 
children can get these nice nuts." So he stayed among the chest- 
nut trees a long time, prying open the prickly burrs. How pretty 
the brown nuts looked, packed so snugly in their velvet-lined 
cases I 

Jack Frost traveled fast and far, working all the time. How 
many burrs he opened, how many panes of glass he decorated, 
I am sure I cannot tell; but I must tell of one sad thing which he 
had to do. 

Little Alan had a garden of his own. His mamma had told 
him in the afternoon to take up his plants or Jack Frost would 
destroy them. Alan had put off doing it as he was busy at play 
when she told him, and he did not think of it again until it was 
too late. 

When Jack Frost came to the little garden, he felt very sorry. 
^'Oh, dearl*' said he, ''I wish Alan had taken up these plants! 
I hate to destroy them, but I cannot leave them here in old 
Winter's way.'' So out came the ni])pers and pincers and some 
black paint, and soon Alan's garden was a sad sight. 

The next morning the ground was all white and sparkling, the 
trees looked very gay with their red and yellow leaves, and the 
squirrels were very joyful as they gathered the ripe chestnuts. 
But there was a little boy who felt very unhappy indeed as he saw 
what Jack Frost had done to his garden. ''Next time," said 
Alan to his mamma, as they were talking about his garden that 
night, "next time, I will take all my plants into the house as 
soon as you tell me that Jack Frost is coming. '^ 

"Then Jack Frost has made my little boy wiser," said his 
mamma. 

Emilik Poulsson. 



THE FLOWER BASKET. 

OR LOVING AND GIVING. 

To THE Teacher: — 

The fitness of " The Flower Basket " as a subject for this especial time 
can easily be demonstrated, though not at first evident. Listen to FroebeFB 
explanation: "It is to lead the child early to notice tenderly and cher- 
ish thoughtfully the all-sided bond that, invisible though it is, can be 
felt, and is inner and mental — that is to say, the bond whereby humanity's 
life is bound up together; and the life of a child and of the family afford 
the first opportunity for doing this." 

In the " Mutter and Kose Lieder " this play follows the play of " The 
Bird's Nest" and might be considered its complement; for while "The 
Bird's Nest" portrays parental love by a most vivid and attractive 
imagery, " The Flower Basket " offers the child an outlet for his aroused 
affection — or, rather, shows him the beauty of expressing his reciprocal 
love. 

Neither flowers nor baskets are the real subject of the play therefore, 
but loving and giving. Hence nothing is more sweetly suitable for our 
contemplation while we are busy with the little gifts which should one 
and all be the signs of love. 

From the Essay on Gifts, Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

"The only gift is a portion of thyself. Therefore the poet brings his 
poem; the shepherd, his lamb; the farmer, corn; the miner, a gem; the 
sailor, coral and shells; the painter, his picture; the girl a handkerchief 
of her own sewing." 

" I fear to breathe any treason against the majesty of love which is the 
genius and god of gifts and to whom we must not affect to prescribe. 
Let him give kingdoms or flower-leaves indifferently." 



THE TALK. 



(Sing "The Flower Basket," using it just now as a finger 
play, and repeating it as a circle game later, if you wish. If the 
children do not know the song, the teachers could sing it for 
them, the children carefully holding their baskets meantime 



IN THE child's WORLD. 107 

and rising and stepping forward at the last part of the song, as 
if offering them to papa and mamma. Lead the children to talk 
of home and parents and brothers and sisters. Let many of 
them tell what work their fathers do. Show them that this is 
to provide home, clothes, food, etc., for the family, and that 
father does it out of love for his family. 

Let them tell of the mother's work. Show that this, too, is 
done for love.) How many of these children love their papas? — 
their mammas? How many would like to do something for papa 
and mamma? What can you do? Can you work as papa does, 
and earn money to buy bread and meat and shoes and clothes, 
etc., etc.? Can you make clothes and mend, or cook, or wash 
and iron, as mamma does? No; little children cannot do such 
things. 

But let me see if I can think of something which little chil- 
dren can do. Can you sing some of the kindergarten songs for 
papa and mamma? Can you tell some of the stories you have 
heard here? Can you tell them the story we had last week? 
(Teacher mentions story by name.) Papa and mamma would 
be so pleased to hear some of the songs and stories. Baby might 
like to hear the songs, too — and sometimes you might keep the 
baby happy by singing to it or playing with it while mamma is 
busy with her work. 

(Children tell other things they can do.) All these things 
will show love. Sometimes we show love by giving presents. 
Papa and mamma will be so pleased with the presents the chil- 
dren are making. Be sure and put love in the stitches of your 
sewing; that is, think about papa and mamma while you work, 
and try to sew your card or weave your mat as nicely as ever 
you can. That is what "putting love in " means. 

Little .shifts are precious 
If a loving heart 
Help the busy fingers 
As they do their part. 



108 IN" TIIK child's world. 



TEACHER'S READING. 

The Vision of Sir Launfal, .... - Lowell 

Gifts, ....... E. W. Emerson 

Tlie Miraculous Pitcher, ----- iV. Hawthorne 

Little Tuk, ------ Hans Chr. Andersen 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

Charlotte and the Ten Dwarfs (" Kindergarten Stories and 

Morning Talks"), ------ 8. E. Wiltse 



STORIES. 

LITTLE SERVANTS. 

"Oh, what an untidy room! Skip about, little ones, and set 
it in order." 

" I don^t like to tidy rooms," said Elsie, with a pucker on her 
pretty forehead, as she turned the pieces of her dissected map 
this way and that. 

" I think it must be ever so nice to keep plenty of servants," 
said Euth. 

'• Yes, indeed," said Bessie, ''just like Mrs. Marshall." 

Elsie brought a pout to her lips to keep company with the 
jiucker in her forehead, and looked as doleful as a little girl 
wiiose face seemed made rather for smiles than frowns could 
look. 

" Do you think you would be happier with nothing to do?" 
asked mamma. 

" Yes, I'm sure I should," said Elsie. 

"And I," said Ruth. 

" But," said Bessie, thoughtfully, " I don't know. Mrs. Mar- 
shall never looks half so nice and pleasant as mamma, and she 
says her servants bother her all the time. Do you think they'd 
bother you, mamma, if you kept them?" 

" I don't know, dear. I never tried keeping more than one. 



ijsr THE child's world. 109 

except these little bits of ones here," pinching Elsie's cheeks and 
giving Enth'shead a pat; " and as they are not always very will- 
ing little servants, perhaps they bother me." 

'' It's a shame," said Bessie, running to kiss her mother. "■ I 
do love to do things for you, mamma. Hurry, girls; let's see 
how quick we can be!" 

And the little maids flew about until the room was in good 
order. 

" But," said Elsie, as mamma settled herself to some sewing, 
and the three gathered around her for a talk, '* I was reading 
the other day about the little king of Spain — he's only a baby, 
you know, mamma, and yet he's a king! And he has ever and 
ever so many servants — all for just himself." 

" I once knew some little girls who kept a great many 
servants." 

" Tell us about them, please, mamma. How old were they?" 

" Well, about as old as Elsie and Ruth and Bessie." 

" How many did they have?" 

" You can count up as I go on. There were two bright-look- 
ing ones, always dressed alike, in blue, brown, or gray. Their 
duty was to keep on the watch for what ought to be done." 

" Didn't they ever do anything themselves?" 

" Not much but that. It seemed to keep them busy if they 
attended to their duties; but sometimes they were negligent, 
and then of course the work of all the other servants was thrown 
into confusion." 

" I'm sure it was little enough to do," said Bessie. 

"Then there were two more, whose business it was to listen 
to what their little mistress's mqther or teacher told them, and 
let them know what it was." 

" It seems to me," said Ruth, laughing, " they must have been 
a lazy set, so many to do so little. Any more, mamma? " 

" Two more, always dressed in red, who told what the others 
heard." '•' It took a long time to get to it, I think," said Bessie. 

" When these had settled upon anything to be done," went on 
mamma, ''there were a pair of lovely little fellows, always wear- 
ing dark, stout clothing, who carried the little girls to where 
their work was to be done." 



110 IN THE child's WOliLD. 

" Oh, oh I " laughed Elsie, " what a queer set you are telling 
us of, mamma. Were the little girls lame?" 

" I hope they did their work well when they got to it, after 
all that f uss,^' said Euth. 

" They surely ought to have done so," mamma said, "^ for they 
had no less than ten little servants to do it for them."' 

" Now, mamma, do tell us what you mean," said Elsie. 

" I mean," said mamma, '^that little Blue Eyes and Brown 
Eyes and Gray Eyes ought always to be on the lookout for any- 
thing to be done for those whom they love." 

'' Oh, I see! And ears to listen! " cried Bessie, greatly amused 
at mamma's fancy." 

" And dear little lips," said mamma, kissing the ]iair which 
chanced to be nearest, "which can not only talk about duties to 
be done, but can lighten and brighten every duty for themselves 
and for others by their smiles and merry chatter." 

'''And feet to walk and run with," said Bessie. 

*' And fingers. Dear me, just think of all the servants," said 
Elsie. " I should think they would quarrel once in a while." 

" Yes," said Bessie, "supposing the eyes saw something to do, 
and the ears heard somebody tell about it, and the feet shouldn't 
want to go to it, and the hands shouldn't want to do it!" 

" That would depend on what kind of little mistress they 
had," said mamma. " If she wanted to do right, she would be 
sure to keep all her little servants in good order. And they need 
a good deal of training." 

" Yes, I guess they do," said little Ruth, holding up her 
chubby hands. " They have to learn to put on a thimble, and 
to thread a needle, and to sew." 

" And to sweep, and dust, and to pick up things," said Bessie. 

"And to write, and make figures, and play on the piano." 

"And there are things they have to learn not to do," said 
mamma, with a significant smile; "not to meddle with things 
tliat don't belong to them; not to idle when they ought to be 
busy; not to do carelessly or negligently the work which ought 
to be done well." 

"Oh, dear!" said Bessie, with a little sigh, "so many things 
to do, and so many things not to do." 



IN THE child's WORLD. Ill 

" Yes, so many," said mamma. " But if the heart which 

moves all these little servants is a loving, faithful heart, always 

striving to do faithfully whatever comes in its way, there need 

be no fear of its not succeeding." 

Sydney Dayre. 
The YoutKs Instructor. 



EXTRACT FROM THE DREAM OF LITTLE CHRISTEL. 

Slowly forth from the village church, 
The voice of the choristers hushed over head — 

Came little Christel. She paused m the porch. 
Pondering what the preacher had said. 

" ' Even the youngest, humblest child 

Something mag do to please the Lord'; 
Now, what," thought she, and half sadly smiled, 
" Can I, so little and poor, afford? " 

" ' Never, never a day should pass, 

Without some kindness kindly shoion,' " 
The preacher said. Then down to the grass 
A skylark dropped, like a brown-winged stone. 

" Well, a day is before me now; 

Yet what," thought she, " can I do, if I try? 
If an angel of God would show me how ! 
But silly am I, and the hours they fly." 

Then the lark sprang singing up from the sod, 
And the maiden thought, as he rose to the blue, 
*' He says he will carry my prayer to God; 

But who would have thought the little lark knew! " 

Now she entered the village street, 

With book in hand and face demure. 
And soon she came, with sober feet. 

To a crying babe at a cottage door. 

It wept at a windmill that would not move, 
It puffed with its round red cheeks in vain, 

One sail stuck fast in a puzzling groove. 
And baby's breath could not stir it again. 




LiTTLK CHftlSTEL. 



IN THE child's WOKLI). 113 

So baby beat the sail and cried, 

\\ bile no one came from tlie cottage door; 
But little Cliristel knelt down by its side, 

And set the windmill going once more. 

Then babe was jjleased, and the little girl 
Was glad when she heard it laugh and crow; 

Thinking, " Happy windmill, that has but to whirl, 
To please the pretty young creature so! " 

No thought of herself was in her head. 

As she passed out at the end of the street, 
And came to a rose-tree tall and red, 

Droojiing and faint with the summer heat. 

She ran to a brook that was flowing by, 
She made of her two hands a nice round cup, 

And washed the roots of the rose-tree high, 
Till it lifted its languid blossoms up. 

" O happy brook!" thought little Christel, 
"You have done some good this summer's day, 
You have made the flowers look fresh and well!" 
Then she rose and went on her way. 

Unknown. 



THE WAKE UP fSTORY. 

The sun was up and the breeze was blowing, and the five 
chicks and four geese and three rabbits and two kitties and one 
httle dog were just as noisy and lively as they knew how to be. 

They were all watching for Baby Ray to appear at the window, 
but he was still fast asleep in his little white bed, while mamma 
was making ready the things he would need when he should 
wake up. 

First, she went along the oi'chard path as far as the old wooden 
pump, and said: "Good Pump, will you give me some nice, 
clear water for the baby's bath ? " 

And the pump was willing. 

The good old pump by the orchard path 
Gave nice, cleir w:iter for the baby's bath. 



114 IN THE child's WORLD. 

Then she went a little farther on the path, and stopped at the 
wood-pile, and &aid: " Good Chips, the pump has given me nice, 
clear water for dear little Ray; will you come and warm the 
water and cook his food?" 

And the chij^s were willing. 

The good old pump by the orchard path 
Gave nice, clear water for the baby's bath. 
And the clean, white chips from the pile of wood 
Were glad to warm it and cook his food. 

So mamma went on till she came to the barn, and then said: 
*' Good Cow, the pump has given me nice, clear water, and the 
wood-pile has given me clean, white chips for dear little Ray; 
will you give me warm, rich milk ? " 

And the cow was willing. 

Then she said to the top-knot hen that was scratching in the 
straw: "Good Biddy, the pump has given me nice, clear water, 
and the wood-pile has given me clean, white chips, and the cow 
has given me warm, rich milk for dear little Ray; will you give 
me a new-laid QggV 

And the hen was willing. 

The good old pumji by the orchard path 
Gave nice, clear water for the baby's bath. 
The clean, white chips from the pile of wood 
Were glad to warm it and cook his food. 
The cow gave milk in the milk-pail bright. 
And the toi^-knot Biddy an egg new and white. 

Then mamma went on till she came to the orchard, and said 
to a Red June apple tree: " Good Tree, the pump has given me 
nice, clear water, and the wood -pile has given me clean, white 
chips, and the cow has given me warm, rich milk, and the hen 
has given me a new-laid egg for dear little Ray; will you give me 
a jjretty red apple ? " 

And the tree was willing. 

So mamma took the apple and the egg and the milk and the 
chips and the water to the house, and there was Baby Ray in liis 
nightgown looking out of the window. 



IN THE child's WOULD. 115 

And she kissed him and bathed him and dressed him, and 
while she brushed and curled his soft, brown hair, she told him 
the Wake Up story that I am telling you : — 

The good old pump by the orchard path 
Gave nice, clear water for the baby's bath. 
The clean, white chips from the pile of wood 
Were glad to warm it and cook his food. 
The cow gave milk in the milk-pail bright; 
The top-knot Biddy an egg new and white; 
And the tree gave an apple so round and so red, 
For dear little Ray who was just out of bed. 

EUDORA BUMSTEAD. 
Youth's Companion. 



THE GO SLEEP STORY. 

" How can I go to bed," said Penny, the flossy dog, " till I say 
good night to Baby Ray? He gives me part of his bread and 
milk, and pats me with his little soft hand. It is bedtime now 
for dogs and babies. I wonder if he is asleep?" 

So he trotted along in his silky white nightgown till he found 
Baby Ray on the porch in mamma's arms. 

And she was telling him the same little story that I am telling 
you:— 

The doggie that was given him to keep, keep, keep. 
Went to see if Baby Ray was asleep, sleep, sleep. 

" How can we go to bed," said Snowdrop and Thistledown, the 
youngest children of Tabby, the cat, ''till we have once more 
looked at Baby Ray? He lets us play with his blocks and ball, 
and laughs when we climb on the table. It is bedtime now for 
kitties and dogs and babies. Perhaps we shall find him asleep." 
And this is what the kitties heard: — 

One doggie that was given him to keep, keep, keep, 
Two cunning little kitty-cats, creep, creep, creep. 
Went to see if Baby Ray was asleep, sleep, sleep. 



116 IN THE CHlLbb WUKLU. 

" How cati we go to bed," said the three little liuimiLS, "till 
we have seeu Baby Hay?" Then away they went iu their white 
velvet nightgowns as softly as three flakes of snow. And they, 
too, when they got as far as the porch, heard Ray's mamma telling 
the same little story: — 

One doggie that was given him to keep, keep, keep, 
Two cunning little kitty-cats, creep, creep, creep, 
Three pretty little bunnies with a leap, leap, leap, 
Went to see if Baby Ray was asleep, sleep, sleep. 

"How can we go to bed," said the four white Geese, "till we 
know that Baby Eay is all right? He loves to watch us sail on 
the duckpond, and he brings us corn in his little blue apron. It 
is bedtime now for geese and rabbits and kitties and dogs and 
babies, and he really ought to be asleep." 

So 'they waddled away iu their white feather nightgowns, 
around by the porch, where they saw Baby Ray, aud heard mamma 
tell the "Go Sleep" story:— 

One doggie that was given him to keep, keep, keep, 
Two cunning little kitty-cats, creep, creep, creep, 
Three pretty little bunnies, Avith a leap, leap, leap, 
Four geese from the duck-pond, deep, deep, deep. 
Went to see if Baby Ray was asleep, sleep, sleep. 

"How can we go to bed," said the five white Chicks, " till we 
have seen Baby Ray once more? He scatters crumbs for us and 
calls us. Now it is bedtime for chicks and geese and rabbits and 
kitties and dogs and babies, so little Ray must be asleep." 

Then thev ran and fluttered in their downy white nightgowns 
till they came to the porch, where little Ray was just closing his 
eyes, while mamma told the "Go Sleep" story: — 

One doggie that was given him to keep, keep, keep. 
Two cunning little kitty-cats, creep, creep, creep. 
Three pretty little bunnies, with -a leap, leap, leap, 
Four geese from the duck-pond, deep, deep, deep. 
Five downy little chicks, crying, peep, peep, peep, 
All saw that Baby Ray was asleep, sleep, sleep. 

EUDORA BUMSTEAD. 
Youth's Companion. 



CHRISTMAS. 



To THE Teachee: — 

As soon as we begin learning the Christmas carols and making the 
Christmas presents, we naturally talk much of the approaching happj-^ 
season and its origin. 

The following talk is not meant, therefore, as a first presentation or a 
full presentation of the sweet old story, but rather as giving a setting 
for it. 



THE TALK. 

(Since the children are by this time in the full delight of their 
Christmas work, gifts and giving are so continually in then- 
thoughts that the talk will probably direct itself into that channel. 
Try again to make the impression that gifts are to show love; that 
although we can show our love constantly by doing loving deeds 
for father and mother and friends, we also like to show love some- 
times by giving presents.) 

What are some of the times when people give presents? Christ- 
mas, of course; and very often on birthdays. (See whether the 
children have any idea ^uhy Christmas should be a time for gifts, 
before you explain it to them. 

Speak of Jesus as a gift of love to the world; and, briefly, of 
how he ''went about doing good," "pleased not himself," — 
teaching and living a life of goodness and love. That is why 
Christmas, his birthday, is the "gladdest of birthdays in all the 
year.") 

Let us think about that long-ago Christmas when Jesus was 
born. It was Winter, but in a warm country; — a country where 
figs and dates and oranges, and all such things grow. Joseph 
and Mary had come a long way to this place, Mary riding on a 
donkey and Josejjh walking by her side. People often use donkeys 
instead of horses in that land. Mary and Joseph went to an inn. 



118 IN THE CHILl-'S WORLD. 

An inn is a place where travelers can stay to rest and get food. 
We have inns, too, in these days, and sometimes call them hotels. 

So many other people had gone to Bethlehem at this time, that 
all the houses and hotels were crowded, and Joseph and Mary 
found that there was no room for them except in the stable. That 
must have been crowded, too; for, besides the cows and oxen, 
there must have been a good many horses and donkeys there, 
belonging to the other travelers. What do you think Joseph and 
Mary did when they went into the stable? I suppose they 
fed the donkey and tied him near them for the night, and then 
made their own beds ready. These beds were only piles of 
fresh, clean straw, but were soft and comfortable. What could 
be a cosier cradle for any wee baby than the manger where the 
Christ Child was laid? 

(Describe manger if the children do not already understand 
about it.) 

What do you suppose the donkey or the cows would have 
thought if they had gone to the manger to eat some of the hay 
and had seen the dear little new baby lying there? I do not 
believe they would have hurt him, do you? 

Try and make a picture in your minds of the stable with the 
shining star above it; the cattle all about; the manger with the 
baby in its little nest of hay; Joseph and Mary standing near; and 
then the shepherds, with their long crooks, going in. 

Afterwards, other visitors came, — the wise men who had 
traveled so far. (Let the children tell of the shepherd's vision 
and of the wise men and the wondrous star; not only in their 
own words but by repeating the lines of some of their carols. 
Nothing vivifies a song or carol more than having the familiar 
words thus used by the children.) 



IN T-Il: ClIlLl/s WOULD. 119 



TtACHER'6 READING. 

Ben Hur, -------- Wallace 

Life of Christ, ------- Farrar 

A Christmas Carol, ------ Dickens 

A Christmas Hymn, ----- Alfred Domett 

Hymn of the Nativity, ------ Hilton 

End of the Phiy, ------ Thackeray 

Under the Holly-bough, ----- Mackay 

Christmas-tide, ------- Scott 

The Sketch Book, ------ Irving 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

Daily Bread, ------- Mrs. Gatty 

What the Hollies Did (" Stories for Kindergarten and Home"), 

J\I. 7y. Van Kirk 
The Night Before Christmas, - ' - - - - C. C. Moore 

The Fir Tree, ------ Hans Clir. Andersen 

The Story of Christmas (" The Story Hour"), - K. D. Wirigin 

Old Christmas, ------ Mary Howitt 



STORIES. 

CHKISTMAS IN THE BAEN. 

Only two more days and Christmas would be here I It had been 
snowing hard, and Johnny was standing at the wiiidow, looking 
at the soft, white snow Avhich covered the ground half a foot deep. 
Presently he heard the noise of wheels coming up the road, and 
a wagon turned in at the gate and came past the w'indow. Johnny 
was very curious to know what the wagon could be bringing. He 
pressed his little nose close to the cold window pane, and, to Ins 
great surprise, saw two large Christmas trees. Johnny wondered 
why there were two trees, and turned quickly to run and tell 
Mamma all about it; but then remembered that Mamma was not 
at home. She had gone to the city to buy some Christmas pres- 
ents and would not return until quite late. Johnny began to feel 



120 IN THE CllILDS WORLD. 

that his toes and fingers had grown quite cold f rom_ standing at 
the window so long; so he drew his own little chair up to the 
cheerful grate fire and sat there quietly thinking. Pussy, who 
had been curled up like a little bundle of wool in the very warm- 
est corner, jumped up, and, going to Johnny, rubbed her head 
against his knees to attract his attention. He patted her gently 
and began to talk to her about what was in his thoughts. 

He had been puzzling over the tiuo trees which had come, and 
at last had made up his mind about them. " I know now. Pussy," 
said he, " why there are two trees. This morning when I kissed 
Papa goodbye at the gate he said he was going to buy one for me, 
and Mamma, who was busy in the house, did not hear him say so; 
and I am sure she must have bought the other. But what shall 
we do with two Christmas trees?" 

Pussy jumped into his lap and purred and purred. A plan 
suddenly flashed into Johnny's mind. " Would you like to have 
one. Pussy?" Pussy purred more loudly and it seemed almost 
as though she had said yes. 

"Oh! I will, I will! if Mamma will let me. I'll have a Christ- 
mas tree out in the barn for you. Pussy, and for all tha pets; and 
then you'll all be as happy as I shall be with my tree in the 
parlor." 

By this time it had grown quite late. There was a ring at the 
door bell; and quick as a flash Johnny ran with a happy, smiling 
face to meet Papa and Mamma and gave them each a loving kiss. 
During the evening he told them all that he had done that day 
and also about the two big trees which the man had brought. 
It was just as Johnny had thought. Papa and Mamma had each 
bought one, and as it Avas so near Christmas they thought they 
would not send either of them back. Johnny was very glad of 
this, and told them of the happy plan he had made and asked if 
he might have the extra tree. Papa and Mamma smiled a little 
as Johnny explained his plan, but they said he might have the 
tree, and Johnny went to bed feeling very happy. 

That night his papa fastened the tree into a block of wood so 
that it would stand firmly and then set it in the middle of the 
barn floor. The next day when Johnny had finished his lessons 
he went to the kitchen, and asked Annie, the cook, if she would 



IN THE child's world. 121 

save the bones and potato parings and. all other leavings from the 
day's meals and give them to him the following morning. He 
also begged her to give him several cupfuls of salt and corn meal, 
which she did, putting them in paper bags for him. Then she 
gave him the dishes he asked for, — a few chipped ones not good 
enough to be used at table — and an old wooden bowl. Annie 
wanted to know what Johnny intended to do Avith all these things, 
but he only said: "Wait until to-morrow, then you shall see." 
He gathered up all the things which the cook had given him and 
carried them to the barn, placing them on a shelf in one corner, 
where he was sure no one would touch them and where they 
would be all ready for him to use the next morning. 

Christmas morning came, and, as soon as he could, Johnny 
hurried out to the barn, where stood the Christmas tree which he 
was going to trim for all his pets. The first thing he did was to 
get a paper bag of oats; this he tied to one of the branches of the 
tree, for Brownie, the mare. Then he made up several bundles 
of hay and tied these on the other side of the tree, not quite so 
high up, where White Face, the cow, could reach them; and on 
the lowest branches some more hay for Spotty, the calf. 

Next Johnny hurried to the kitchen to get the things Annie 
had promised to save for him. She had plenty to give. With 
his arms and hands full he went back to the barn. He found 
three "lovely" bones with plenty of meat on them; these he tied 
together to another branch of the tree, for Rover, his big black 
dog. Under the tree he placed the big wooden bowl, and filled 
it well with potato parings, rice and meat, left from yesterday's 
dinner; this was the " full and tempting trough " for Piggywig. 
Near this he placed a bowl of milk for Pussy, on one plate the 
salt for the pet lamb, and on another the corn meal for the dear 
little chickens. On the top of the tree he tied a basket of nuts; 
these were for his pet squirrel; and I had almost forgotten to tell 
you of the bunch of carrots tied very low down where soft white 
Bunny could reach them. 

When all was done, Johnny stood off a little way to look at 
this wonderful Christmas tree. Clapping his hands with delight, 
he ran to call Papa and Mamma and Annie, and they laughed 
aloud when they saw what he had done. It was the funniest 



VZZ IN" THE child's WORLD. 

Chistmas tree they had ever seen. They were sure the pets 
would like the presents Johnny had chosen. 

Then there was a busy time in the barn. Papa and Mamma 
and Annie helj^ed about bringing in the animals, and before long 
Brownie, White Face, Spotty, Kover, Piggywig, Pussy, Lamb- 
kin, the chickens, the squirrel and Bunny the rabbit, had been 
led each to his own Christmas breakfast on and under the tree. 
What a funny sight it was to see them all standing around look, 
ing happy and contented, eating and drinking with such an 
appetite! 

While watching them Johnny had another thought, and he ran 
quickly to the house and brought out the new trumpet which 
Papa had given him for Christmas. By this time the animals 
had all finished their breakfast, and Johnny gave a little toot on 
his trumpet as a signal that the tree festival was over. Brownie 
went, neighing and prancing, to her stall; White Face walked 
demurely ofl:^ with a bellow, which Spotty the calf, running at 
her heels, tried to imitate; the little lamb skipped bleating away; 
Piggywig walked off with a grunt; Pussy jumped on the fence 
with a mew; the squirrel still sat up in the tree cracking her nuts; 
Bunny hopped to her snug little quarters; while Eover, barking 
loudly, chased the chickens back to their coop. Such a hubbuu 
of noises! Mamma said it sounded as if they were trying to say: 
" Merry Christmas to you, Johnny! Merry Christmas to all." 

Frances Arnstein. 



SANTA CLAUS AND THE MOUSE. 

One Christmas eve, when Santa Glaus 

Came to a certain house, 
To fill the children's stockings there, 

He found a little mouse. 

" A merry Christmas, little friend," 

Said Santa, good and kind. 
" The same to you, sir," said the mouse; 
" I thought you wouldn't mind 




Santa Claus and the Mouse 



124 IX THE child's would. 

" If I should stay awake to-night 

And watch you for awhile." 
" You're very welcome, little mouse," 

Said Santa, with a smile. 

And then he filled the stockings up 

Before the mouse could wink — 
From toe to top, from top to toe. 

There wasn't left a chink. 

" Now, they won't hold another thing,'" 
Said Santa Claus, with pride. 
A twinkle came in mouse's eyes. 
But humbly he replied : 

" It's not polite to contradict — 
Your pardon I implore — 
But in the fullest stocking there 
/ could i)ut one thing moi'e." 

" Oh, ho! " laughed Santa, "silly mouse. 
Don't I know how to pack? 
By filling stockings all these years, 
I should have learned the knack." 

And then he took the stocking down 

From where it hung so high, 
And said: " Now put in one thing more; 

I give you leave to try." 

The mousie chuckled to himself, 

And then he softly stole 
Right to the stocking's crowded toe 

And gnawed a little hole ! 

" Now, if you please, good Santa Claus, 
I've put in one thing more; 
For you will own that little hole 
Was not in there before." 

How Santa Claus did laugh and laugh ! 
And then he gayly spoke : 
" Well! you shall have a Christmas cheese 
For that nice little joke." 

If you don't think this story true, 

Why ! I can show to you 
The very stocking with the hole 

The little mouse gnawed through. 

EmILIE PotJLSSON. 

St. Nicholas. 



IX THE child's world. 125 



THE BIRDS' CHEISTMAS. 



Founded on Fact. 



'' Chickadee-dee-dee-dee! Chickadee-dee-dee-dee! Chicka — " 
'' Cheerup, cheerup chee-chee! Cheerup, cheerup chee-chee!" 
"Ter-ra-lee, ter-ra-lee, ter-ra-lee!" 

" Rap-atap-atap-atap!" went the Avooclpecker; "Mrs. Chick- 
adee may speak first." 

"^Friends," began Mrs. Chickadee, "^'why do you suppose I 
called you together?" 

" Because it's the day before Christmas," twittered Snow Bunt- 
ing. "And you're going to give a Christmas party," chirped 
the Robin. " And you want us all to come! " said Downy Wood- 
pecker. "Hurrah! Three cheers for Mrs. Chickadee!" 

"Hush!" said Mrs. Chickadee, "And I'll tell you all about 
it. To-morrow is Christmas day, but I don't want to give a 
party." 

" Chee, chee, chee!" cried Robin Rusty-breast; "chee, cliee, 
cheel" 

"Just listen to my little plan," said Mrs. Chickadee, "for, 
indeed, I want you all to help. How many remember Thistle 
Goldfinch — the happy little fellow who floated over the meadows 
through the summer and fall?" 

" Cheerup chee-chee, cheerup chee-chee, I do," sang the 
Robin; "how he loved to sway on thistle-tops!" "Yes," said 
Downy Woodpecker, "and didn't he sing? All about blue skies, 
and sunshine and happy days, with his 'Swee-e-et-sweet-sweet- 
sweet-a-twitter-witter-witter-witter-wee-twea! ' " 

"Ter-ra-lee, ter-ra-lee," said Snow Bunting. "We've all 
heard of Thistle Goldfinch, but what can he have to do with 
your Christmas party? He's away down South now, and 
wouldn't care if you gave a dozen parties." 

"Oh, but he isn't; he's right in these very woods!" 

"' Why, you don't mean^ — " 

"' Indeed I do mean it, every single word. Yesterday I was 
flitting about among the trees, pecking at a dead branch here, 
and a bit of moss there, and before I knew it I found myself 



126 IN" THE child's AVORLD. 



away over at the other side of the woods! 'Chickadee-dee-dee, 
chickadee-dee-dee! ' I sang, as I turned my bill toward home. 
Just then I heard the saddest little voice pipe out: * 'Dear-ie me! 
dear-ie me!' and there on the sunny side of a branch perched a 
lonesome bit of yellowish down. I went up to see what it was, 
and found dear little Thistle Goldfinch! lie was very glad to 
see me, and soon told his short story. Through the summer 
Papa and Mamma Goldfinch and all the brothers and sisters had 
a fine time, singing together, fluttering over thistle-tops, or 
floating through the balmy air. But when 'little Jack Frost 
walked through the trees,' Papa Goldfinch said: 'It is high time 
we went south!' All were ready but Thistle; he wanted to stay 
through the winter, and begged so hard that Papa Goldfinch 
soberly said: 'Try it, my son, but do find a warm place to stay 
in at night.' Then off they flew, and Thistle was alone. For 
a while he was happy. The sun shone warm through the middle 
of the day, and there were fields and meadows full of seeds. 
You all remember how sweetly he sang for us then. But by and 
by tlie cold North Wind came whistling through the trees, and 
chilly Thistle woke up one gray morning to find the air full 
of whirling snowflakes. He didn't mind the light snows, for 
golden-rod and some high grasses were too tall to be easily cov- 
ere(], and he got seeds from them. But now that the heavy 
snows have come, the poor little fellow is almost starved, and if 
he doesn't have a warm place to sleep in these cold nights, he'll 
surely die!" 

Mr?. Chickadee paused a minute. The birds were so still one 
could hear the pine trees whisper. Then she went on: "I 
comforted the poor little fellow iis best I could, and showed him 
where to find a few seeds; then I flew home, for it was bedtime. 
I tucked my head under my wing to keep it warm, and thought, 
and thought, and thought; and here's my plan: — 

'•■ We Chickadees have a nice warm home here in the spruce 
trees, with their thick, heavy boughs to shut out the snow and 
cold. There is plenty of room, so Thistle could sleep here all 
winter. A\ e would let him perch on a branch, then we Chicka- 
dees would nestle around him until he was as warm as in the 
lovely summer time. These cones are so full of seeds that we 



* Sung to " do, Kol , mi. ' ' 



IN THE child's WORLD. 127 

could spare him a good many; and I think that you Robins might 
let him come over to your pines some day and share your seeds. 
Downy Woodpecker must keep his eyes open as he hammers the 
trees, and if he spies a supply of seeds he will let us know at 
once. Snow Bunting is only a visitor, so I don't expect him to 
help, but I wanted him to hear my plan with the rest of you. 
Now you loill try, won't you, every oneV^ 

" Cheerup, cheer up, ter-ra-lee! indeed we'll try; let's begin 
right away! Don't wait till to-morrow; who'll go and find 
Thistle?" 

" I will," chirped Robin Rusty-breast, and off he flew to the 
place which Mrs. Chickadee had told of, at the other side of the 
wood. There, sure enough, he found Thistle Goldfinch sighing: 
* ^' Dear-ie me! dear-ie me! The winter is so cold and I'm here 
all alone! " "^ Cheerup, chee-chee! " piped the Robin: — 

" Cheerup, cheerup, I'm here ! 
I'm here and I mean to stay. 
What if the winter is drear — 
Cheerup, cheerup anyway!" 

" But the snow is so deep," said Thistle, and the Robin re- 
plied: — 



" Soon the snows '11 be over and gone, 
Eun and rippled away; 
What's the use of looking forlorn? 
Cheerup, cheerup, I say! " 



Then he told Thistle all their plans, and wasn't Thistle sur- 
prised? Why, he just couldn't believe a word of it till they 
reached Mrs. Chickadee's, and she said it was all true. They 
fed him and warmed him, then settled themselves for a good 
night's rest. 

Christmas morning they were chirping gaily, and Thistle was 
trying to remember the happy song he sang in the summer time, 
•when there came a whirr of wings as Snow Bunting flew 
down. 



Sung to " do, sol, mi. 



128 IN THE child's WORLD. 

" Ter-ra-lee, ter-ra-lee, ter-ra-lee," said he; "can you fly a 
little way?" 

" Oh, yes," replied Thistle. *' I thinh I could fly a lo7ig way/' 

*' Come on, then," said Snow Bunting. " Every one Avho 
wants a Christmas dinner, follow me!" That was every word he 
would say, so what could they do but follow? 

Soon they came to the edge of the wood, and then to a farm- 
house. Snow Bunting flew straight up to the piazza, and there 
stood a dear little girl in warm hood and cloak, witli ii pail of 
bird-seed on her arm, and a dish of bread-crumbs in her hand. 
As they flew down, she said : — 

"And here are some more birdies who have come for a Christ" 
mas dinner. Of course you shall have some, you dear little 
things!" and she laughed merrily to see them dive for the 
crumbs. 

After they had finished eating, Elsie (that was the little girl's 
name) said: "Now, little birds, it is going to be a cold winter, 
you would better come here every day to get your dinner. I'll 
always be glad to see you." 

" Cheerup chee-chee, cheerup chee-chee! thank you, thank 
you," cried the Robins. 

" Ter-ra-lee, ter-ra-lee, ter-ra-lee! thank you, thank you!" twit- 
tered Snow Bunting. 

" Chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee, chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee, chick-a- 
dee-dee-dee-dee-dee! how kind you are! " sang the Chickadees. 

And Thistle Goldfinch? Yes, he remembered his summer 
song, for he sang as they flew away: — 

" Swee-e-et-sweet - sweet - sweet-a-twitter- witter-witter-witter- 
wee-twea!" 

F. E. Makn. 

Notes. 1. I have invariably found that after children become well 
versed in color, they are unwilling to call our American Robin, " Robin 
Red breast," but prefer either " Orange breast" or " Rusty breast." 

F. E. M. 

2. The Robin's song is from "Bird Talk," by Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney. 

3. The fact upon which this story is based, — that is, of the other birds 
adopting and warming the solitary Thistle Goldfinch, — was observed near 



IN THE child's WORLD. 129 

Northampton, Mass., where robins and other migratory birds sometimes 
sjiend the winter in the thick pine woods. This should be explained to 
the children, since it is exceptional. 



PiCCOLA. 



Poor sweet Piccola ! Did you hear 
What happened to Piccola, children dear? 
'Tis seldom fortune such favor grants 
As fell to this little maid of France. 

'T was Christmas time, and her parents poor 
Could hardly drive the wolf from their door; 
Striving with poverty's patient pain, 
Only to live until summer again. 

No gifts for Piccola ! sad were they 
When dawned the morning of Christmas day; 
Their little darling no joy might stir, 
Saint Nicholas nothing would bring to her. 

But Piccola did not doubt at all. 
That something beautiful must befall 
Every child upon Christmas day; 
And so she slept till tlie dawn was gray. 

And full of faith when at last she woke, 
She stole to her shoe as the morning broke; 
Such sounds of gladness filled the air 
'T was plain Saint Nicholas had been there. 

In rushed Piccola sweet, half wild ; 
Never was seen such a joyful child. 
" See what the good saint brought! " she cried, 
And mother and father must peep inside. 

Now such a story who ever heard? 
There was a little shivering bird, 
A sparrow that in at the window flew 
Had crept into Piccola's wooden shoe! 



130 



IN THE child's WUKLH. 



" How good poor Piccola must have been! " 
She cried, as happy as any queen; 
While the starving sparrov? she fed and warmed, 
She danced with rapture, she was so charmed. 



Children, this story I tell to you 
Of Piccola sweet and her bird, is true ; 
In the far-off land of France, they say, 
Still do they live to this very day. 



Moughion, Mifflin <£ Co. 



Celia Thaxter, 




THE NEW YEAR. 

To THE Teacher: — 

Speak of the last time the children and teachers met together. The ten 
days of vacation have already made this seem long ago to the children; 
for, as Campbell says: — 

" A day to childhood seems a year, 
And years like passing ages." 

Encourage reminiscences of the Christmas festival. Unless such experi- 
ences are recalled again and again they will have no lasting elTect upon 
the child; while the habit of reviewing past delights furnishes the mind 
with a store of happy memories and tends to develop a permanent joy- 
ousness of spirit. 



THE TALK. 

(Speak of the "new day;" the verse " Good morning to the 
glad new day" would be appropriate; then of Monday as the 
beginning of a new week.) 

When we were in kindergarten before it was December; now 
it is January, a new month. So now we have a new day of a new 
week in a new month. And more than that! This is the begin- 
ning of a New Year! 

Did any of the children know whfen it was New Year's Day? 
That was the very first day of this New Year. Can any one tell 
the name of the old year? We called it 1893. That means that 
on Christmas it was 1893 years since Jesus was born. But now 
another year is beginning, and we call this new year 1894. 

A new day comes often, does it not? But it will be many, 
many days before this new year is ended and another begins. 

Let us think about the Old Year and talk about the pleasant 
things we can remember; — Christmas, Thanksgiving, the day we 
came back to kindergarten, birthdays, etc., etc. 



13:^ 



IN THE CHILL) ri WOULD. 



And now this New Year 1894 will bring us Just such happy 
times again. It will bring us a new Spring and a new Summer 
and a new Autumn and a new Winter. (Remind the children of 
some of the beauties and pleasures of each season as it is men- 
tioned.) The New Year brings us a great many new days — 
days to work and play in, and to grow in. Do you know that 
there are three ways for us to grow? There are — three ways: — 
to grow big, to grow wise, to grow good. You know what it is 
to grow big, and to grow good; do you know what it is to grow 
wise? It is to learn all we can about everything in this beautiful 
world, and to understand things better, and to know more and 
more. It is very well to grow big, and better yet to grow wise, 
but best of all to grow good. 

This New Year will give us a great many chances to grow in 
all these three ways. How many things we have spoken of that 
the New Year will bring us! No wonder we are glad to have it 
come! And just as we say " good morning" to each other every 
day, so we say " Happy New Year" to our friends at the begin- 
ning of the New Year. 



TEACHER'S READING. 



The Death of the Old Year, 
Ring Out, Wild Bells (" In Memoriam "), 
Midnight Mass of the Dying Year, 
Pippa Passes, . . . _ 

Next Year, . - - - - 

The Two Roads, - . - - 

*A New Year's Bargain, - - - 

* The Twelve Months, 



Tennyson 
Tennyson 

- Lonyfellow 
R. Browning 

Nora Perry 

Jean Paul Rickter 

Susan Coolidge 

- Labonlaye 



FOR THE CHILDREN. 



Irene and the Yesterdays, 
The New Year's Cake, 



" St. Nicholas," 1873 
St. Nicholas,'' January, 1S99 



* Something suitable for re-telling could perhaps be gleaned from these stories. 



IN THE child's WORLD. 133 



STORIES. 

AN ALL-THE-YEAK-EOUND STORY. 

If you had only been in the right place at the right time and 
had looked in the right direction, you might have seen all this 
yourself; but since not one of you was anywhere near the Palace 
of the Future when its great doors swung slowly open, you did 
not see the people — one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, 
nine, ten, eleven, twelve of them — as they came out. But they 
did come, nevertheless, and looked about them in a puzzled way 
as if they did not know what to do or where to go. 

Before they had much time to wonder, however, an old man 
stepped forward and greeted them heartily. 

"Glad to see you, friends! Glad to see you. I knew you 
would come if I sent for you. One, two, three, four, five, six, 
seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. That's right, you are all 
here. And now I suppose you would like to know why I sent 
for you, wouldn't you? " 

The twelve friends said they would indeed. 

" Look, then," said Father Time, for that was the old man's 
name, and he opened his big cloak which he had been holding 
close about him. 

The twelve crowded near to see, and what they saw was well 
worth looking at, for it was a dear, sweet, tiny baby, laughing 
and cooing and stretching up its pretty hands to be taken. 

"There!" said Father Time, "that's my youngest child and 
his name is 1894. I do not want him to be all alone during his 
visit upon the earth, and besides there are so many things to be 
sent with him that he could not possibly carry them all." 

"Oh! I'll go with him!" "And I!" "And I!" shouted 
the twelve in chorus. 

" Softly, softly," said Father Time. " You cannot all go at 
once, but you shall each have your turn. And each shall carry 
something for little 1894. My storehouse is right here and we 
can plan now what you shall each take, so as to have no confu- 
sion later. Come, January, you must be the first." 



134 IN THE child's WORLD. 

" Then I will carry this banner," said January; and he brought 
a beautiful silken flag from the storehouse. On it was ** Happy 
New Year " in flashing golden letters. January had also a large 
pack upon his back. This was full of snow, with which he in- 
tended to make coasts for the children. 

" February!^' called Father Time, and a little fellow stepped 
forward from the group and ran into the storehouse. Presently 
he came out with a package of valentines in one hand and George 
Washington's picture in the other. "You have chosen well,'' 
said Father Time; "valentines for fun, and George Washing- 
ton's picture to remind people of that good man." 

"March!" "March where?" said February. "March!" 
said Father Time, a trifle sternly. "Oh! excuse me," said Feb- 
ruary, skipping off to talk with January. 

March was rather a wild-looking fellow, and very noisy and 
blustering; but he showed that he had a good heart and liked to 
make people happy, for when he came out of the storehouse, be- 
hold! he had chosen kites for the children to fly, a big bunch of 
silvery pussy willows, and a few — a very few — flowers, just one or 
two daffodils and crocuses and some spears of green grass. 
" But see, said" he, "and listen! This is my greatest treasure 
and what will be best loved," and there was a warbling bluebird 
perched upon his hand. 

"April!" called Father Time. April danced forth from the 
waiting group, curtsied to Father Time, and ran into the store- 
house. She brought out a lapful of violets, a flock of robins, 
and a picture of Friedrich Froebel. "Right, right!" said 
Father Time, nodding approvingly; "that picture belongs to 
you, and Friedrich FrcBbel is another good man whom the chil- 
dren should learn about and love. And now. May, my dear, run 
in and choose your burden." Another pretty maiden answered 
this call; and a beautiful sight she was, especially after she had been 
in the storehouse. She was laden with apple blossoms and 
wreaths, and carried a long pole; and she walked to the sound 
of music, for velvety bees hummed about her and birds of many 
kinds filled the air with their warbling. 

" Music and dancing and flowers! " said May. " The children 
shall have a merry time when I am with them." 



IN THE child's AVOULD. 135 

" Have you forgotten the soldiers?'' asked Father Time. 

''Oh I i!0/'' said May. a tender look upon her bright face. 
" The most and best of my flowers are for Memorial Day." 

May took her place with those who had gone before, and 
Father Time called Jane, saying: "Hasten all you can, dear 
June, for there are still many to follow you." 

So June made no delay in choosing, but chose well, neverthe- 
less, for she brought roses — roses in such profusion that one 
could scarcely see her lovely face peeping out from between the 
flowery branches. " Strawberries, too, good Father Time," said 
June; " I couldn't resist taking the strawberries, too," 

Father Time smiled fondly. People always smile upon June, 
for every one loves her. • 

"July!" called Father Time. 

Into the storehouse and out again in a trice bounded a lively 
boy. " The minute I saw these I knew they were what I 
wanted," said he, showing Father Time a j^ackage of fireworks 
and waving an American flag. 

"Hurrah!" cried Father Time, " that's right I But have you 
also the book of American history?" '' Here it is," said July; 
"these things were fastened to it, so I brought them all along 
together." 

" Right again," said Father Time. " Flags and fireworks 
wouldn't be of much account without that. Now, August, see 
what you would like from the storehouse." 

August returned with golden sheaves bound upon his back, 
and carrying a great flower-decked basket. 

•' In the basket I have put as much fruit as I can possibly 
carry," said August; "and yet there is so much left that who- 
ever takes the rest will have a rich load." 

" That shall be you, September," said Father Time. " Noth- 
ing would suit you better, I am sure, with your warm heart and 
your strong arms." 

September accordingly loaded himself with beautiful fruits — 
apples, pears, peaches, grapes — not a whit less delicious than 
those which August had brought. 

October was next called. He was a gay, breezy fellow. " Ha, 



136 IN THE child's WORLD. 

ha!" he laughed. ''Who will be welcomed more than I, with 
these ripe nuts and these beautiful colored leaves! " 

" My faith!" said Father Time, '' I fear my storehouse has no 
more treasures, each one of you has taken so much. Go and 
look, November." 

November came forward rather sadly, but looked cheerful 
enough after his return from the storehouse. He fairly staggered 
under the weight of the golden pumpkins and the big fat tur- 
keys which he carried. " What do you say to these?" said he, 
triumphantly. " But the best thing is in my pocket — a paper 
which tells that Thanksgiving Day belongs to me." 

" True enough," assented Father Time. "And now, Decem- 
ber," said he, turning to the last waiting figure, "you, I know, 
will find no warbling birds nor budding flowers; yet are you, 
above all others, a joy bearer." 

December disappeared in the storehouse; but soon stepped out 
transfigured. No warbling birds had she, indeed, but lacked not 
for music; for snatches of gladdest carols burst from her lips from 
time to time. No fresh flowers bloomed for her in beauty and 
fragrance, but holly berries gleamed brightly among glossy green 
leaves and a delicious odor came from a little fir tree which Dec- 
ember carried over her shoulder. Looking up, one could see a 
large star which shed its silvery rays upon her. 

But the wondrous light that shone all about was not from 
star or moon or sun, but from a picture in her hand upon which 
she fixed her gaze. The picture was of a baby lying in a manger. 

Father Time's eyes softened as he looked upon it, and his voice 
Avas full of love as he said: " Ah! the best of days and the best of 
gifts is thine, December. Fitting it is that thou should'st be the 
last and that the love and joy which thou bearest should be left 
to the earth as the last memory of 1894. For so it shall be; 
1894 shall stay no longer than to thy last day. And now, fi-iends 
all," said Father Time, " will you kindly form in a procession so 
that each may know certainly when his turn will come?" 

The twelve laden friends did as Father Time requested and 
filed slowly past him. He called their names as they went by, 
that there should be no mistake: (January, February, J\larch, 
etc.) All were in their right places. 




Father Time's Procession 



138 IN THE child's WORLD. 

"The hour draws near," said Father Time. ''Hark! it is 
striking! Here, January, take the little New Year in your arms. 
Farewell!" And lo! at the instant that the clock finished strik- 
ing the midnight hour, January and 1894 appeared upon the 
earth. 

And all the other friends laden with their beautiful gifts went 
back into the Palace of the Future and are only awaiting their 
turn to come and bless the earth with their bounty. 

Emilie Poulsson. 



THE FAIRY'S NEW YEAR GIFT. 

Two little boys were at play one day when a fairy suddenly 
appeared to them and said: "I have been sent to give you a 
New Year present.'' 

She lianded to each child a package, and, at the same instant, 
was gone. 

Carl and Philip opened the packages and found the same thing 
in each— a beautiful book with white pages, as pure, white, and 
beautiful as the snow when it first falls. 

After a long time, the fairy came again to the boys. " I have 
brought you each a new book," she said, "and will take back the 
others to Father Time, who sent them to you." 

"May I not keep mine a little longer?" said Philip; "I have 
hardly thought about it lately. I'd like to paint something on 
that last page that lies open." 

"No," said the fairy, "I must take it just as it is." 

" I wish I could look through mine just once! " said Carl. " I 
have only seen one page at a time; for when a leaf turns over, it 
sticks fast, and I never can open the book at more than one 
place." 

"You shall look over your book," said the fairy, " and Philip 
his." And she lit for each of them a little silver lamp, by the 
light of which they saw the pages as she turned them. 

The boys looked in wonder. Could it be that this was the same 
fair book she had given them a year ago? Where were the pure 



IN THE child's WORLD. , lo'J 

white pages, as pure, white, aud beautiful as the snow when it 
first falls? Here Avas a page with ugly black blots aud scratches 
upon it; while the very next page had a lovely little picture. 
Some pages were decorated with gold and silver and gorgeous 
colors, others with beautiful flowers, and others still with a rain- 
bow of softest, most delicate brightness. Yet even on the most 
beautiful of the pages there were those ugly blots and scratches. 

Carl and Philip looked up at the fairy at last. 

"Who did this?" they asked. ''Every page was white and 
fair as we opened to it; yet now there is not a single blank place 
in the whole book!" 

" Shall I explain some of the pictures to you?" said the fairy, 
smiling at the two little boys. ^' See, Philip, the spray of 
roses blossomed on this page when you let the baby have your 
playthings; and this pretty bird which looks so cunning and as 
if it were singing with all its might, would never have been on 
this page if you had not tried to be kind and pleasant the other 
day instead of quarreling." 

" But Avhat makes this blot?" asked Philip. 

"That," said the fairy sadly, "that came when you told an 
untruth one day; and this when you did not mind mamma. All 
these blots and scratches, that look so ugly both on your book 
and on Carl's, were made when you were naughty in any way and 
did not obey your mamma or papa or your teacher. Each pretty 
thing in your books came on the page when you were good, and 
each blot when you were naughty." 

"Oh! if we could only have the books again," said Carl and 
Philip. 

"That cannot be," said the fairy. "See! they are marked 
^ 1893 ' and they must now go back into Father Time's bookcase; 
but I have brought you each a new one. Perhaps you can make 
these more beautiful than the others." 

So saying, she vanished, and the boys were left alone; but each 
held in his hand a new book open at the first page. 

And on the back of this book was " 1894." It was the book 
of the New Year. 

Emilie Poulsson. 



THE CAT. 



To THE Teacher: — 

The choice of the cat as the first animal to be studied in the kinder- 
garten scarcely needs justification, since the cat is the most universally 
familiar of all animals to the children, and therefore one by which we can 
le.id to the notice of others. Being so familiar, most of the items of 
description should be obtained from the children, the teacher only sup- 
plementing their observations. 

A live cat is so easily obtainable that one ought certainly to be present 
when the talk is given. 

The other members of the cat family being so far outside the experience 
of most of the kindergarten children, and there being so much to talk 
about in this one individual member, I omitted mentioning them, although 
I should prefer to call attention to them if the children are ready for it; 
showing them that the lion, the tiger, the leopard, lynx, etc., have the 
same characteristics which Pussy manifests, that they are light, stealthy, 
silent of foot, quick of ear and eye, swift to attack, — " carnivorous, beauti- 
ful and often terrible." 



THE TALK. 

(In the New Year's talk the subject of growth was touched upon 
and might therefore be used as the point of counectiou between 
last week's talk and this one.) 

We spoke of the New Year bringing us chances to grow. Can 
the children tell other things that grow besides little boys and 
girls? (They will probably think first of plants, since their atten- 
tion has been called to them so often and the fact of a plant's 
growth is so evident; but a little suggestive questioning will bring 
animals to mind.) 

Which children have pussy cats at home? Who has a big cat? 
Was it always a big cat? No, it has grown from a wee, baby 
kitten. What can you tell about the cats you have at home or 



IN THE child's WOULD. 141 

have seen tinywhere? (Question the children separately, appeal 
to the quiet ones sometimes, as well as receiving what the talkative 
ones offer.) 

Pussy has four legs, a long tail, — what kind of a coat? Fur 
coat of different colors, made of hairs growing very, very close 
together. How smooth it is when you stroke it! As you pass 
your hand along her back you can feel something hard, can you 
not? That is Pussy's backbone. When you look at Pussy's head, 
whab do you see? Eyes, ears, nose, mouth, whiskers. 

Can Pussy see well? How does she find the mice in the dark 
night? (Call attention to the little round, black si)ot in peoi)le's 
eyes. The children might observe it in each others' eyes.) 
That little black spot is a window which lets the light in so that 
we can see. In Pussy's eye the window is of a different sliape. 
(In addition to letting the children observe the cat's eyes, have 
two pictures drawn on the blackboard representing the cat's 
eye in daylight and in darkness.) When Pussy is in the dark 
the window in her eye stretches out into so much larger a win- 
dow that she gets light enough to see by where we could scarcely 
see at all. 

How many ears has Pussy? Are they like our ears? No, they 
stand up above her head and have pointed tips. Where are 
Pussy's whiskers? They are feelers to help her in the dark. 
What has Pussy in her cunning little red mouth? Sharp teeth 
and a tongue. Her tongue is a wonderful thing. Pussy can 
make it like a spoon when she wants to lap milk with it. Did 
you ever notice how she will take up every drop of milk in the 
saucer? But Pussy's tongue is something else besides a spoon. 
Haven't you seen her wash herself and make her fur coat all 
smooth? What does she do it with? This same little red tongue. 
If you feel of it you will find it is very rough. That is because 
it is covered with tiny hooks, so small you cannot see them. But 
there are a great many of them and when Pussy draws her tongue 
over her fur, these little hooks comb the fur nicely down and 
make it all clean and smooth. What she cannot reach with her 
tongue, she does with her paws, first wetting the stiff' hairs on 
the end of them. 

Pussy has four feet, you told me. Does she make much noise 



142 



IN THE CHILD S WOULD. 



when she walks? No, she can go along very, very quietly because 
she has little cushions on her feet. By and by we will play 
"Kitty White" and see who can walk as quietly as a real 
Pussy does. 

If you tease Pussy and hurt her, what will she do? Yes, she 
will scratch you, for she does not like to be hurt. 

What does she scratch with? Sharp claws. A little girl who 
was playing with a cat once said, "Oh! Pussy has pins in her feet." 





Underside ^Kow'in^ _cl^v/5. 

Of course it was Pussy's claws that the little girl felt. But if you 
are always gentle and kind when you play with Pussy she will 
not scratch you. She will pull her claws in and hide them 
so that you would never know she had any claws at all. 

Did you ever see a mother cat with her little kittens? How 
she loves them and watches them and teaches them, doesn't she? 
Before they can walk the baby kittens get milk from the mother, 
but they soon learn to drink milk from a saucer. The mother 
cat washes and combs the fur of her baby kittens, too, with her 
rough little tongue. 

(Speak of the usefulness of the cat in frightening away from 
our houses the rats and mice which would otherwise be so trouble- 
some. Also speak of the cat's love of home, and affectionate 
disposition.) 




The Cat. 



144 IN THE child's WORLD. 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Natural History, - - - - - - J. G. Wood 

Winners in Life's Eace (Cliap. IX), - - Arabella Buckley 

An Object of Love, - - - - - - M. E. Wilkins 

Agrippina, ...... Agnes Repplier 

The Kitten at Play, ------ Wordsworth 

The Retired Cat (A Story), ------ Cowper 

The Glove, ------- B. Browning 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

Pussy's Class, ------ Manj Jilapes Dodge 

Purring when you're pleased, - - . - Mrs. Gatty 

Dick Whittington and his Cat, . - - - Old Story 

Mrs. Chinchilla ("The Story Hour"), - - - K. D. Wiggin 

Belling the Cat, ------- ^Esop 



STORIES. 

MY JET.— A TEUE CAT STORY. 

I am afraid Jet was a little cross at times; yes, I am sure he 
was, and I — one of his most intimate friends — ought to know. 

It was when I was a little girl, that we had this cat called Jet, a 
great, shining black creature. I loved Jet, oh! very much indeed! 
and I think he liked me a little; but he was never so fond of me as 
he was of my mother. I liked to hold Jet in my lap, and to smooth 
his soft fur, but he would soon tire of me and jump down. 1 
never tried to hold him after he was tired, for he had a very bad 
habit of growling and showing his teeth. 

Jet was not at all fond of company either, which troubled me 
greatly, because I was always pleased to have visitors come to the 
house. He would run away and hide, and if I tried to coax him 
out of his hiding place he would growl and put up his back and 
say: " Sex! sex!" 

And if another cat came into our yard — oh! you should have 



IN THE child's WOULD. 145 

seen Jet then! He did not wait to put up his back, but, taking 
one look at the stranger, darted away in full chase after him. 
All the cats of the neighborhood soon learned that they must 
never do more than run across our back fence, and the more 
swiftly they could run across the better for them. 

But by and by all this changed. I never understood just how 
the acquaintance began, but a poor, forlorn old cat, with one ear 
gone and a part of his tail missing, came to live with Jet. Yes! 
Jet, who had never allowed another cat within fifty feet of our 
house, took this friendless stranger under his care, let him share 
his bread and milk, and even permitted him to sleep in the soft 
bed which had been made especially for Jet's own use in a box 
under the back porch. Little by little Jet's nature changed, 
until he became so gentle that he would lie sleepily on the 
door- mat and only wink when other cats wished to cross the yard. 

I used to think that as the tramp cat and Jet lay together after 
dinner in the sunshine, old Tramper would chat between naps with 
his younger friend. He would tell Jet how glad he ought to be 
that he had always had such a good home, and that he ought to be 
getting wiser as he grew older; and that wise people do not like 
to growl and to be cross and quarrelsome. They are cheerful 
and happy, and like to see others have good times. 

I felt sure that Tramper, as I called him, used to talk in this way 
to Jet, although I never could catch him saying anything; when- 
ever I came near they would both doze or pretend to be fast asleep, 
or, at any rate, not talk so that I could understand. How- 
ever that may be, I do know that Jet was better as an old cat 
than ever he was as a kitten; and that his growing better 
dated from the time when he was kind to poor, friendless 
Tramper. 

M. V. GiLLi]sr. 



A KITTEN KHYME. 

See my Kitty, — 

Little Dot;— 
Very pretty. 

Is she not? 
Soft and silky 



146 IK THE CHILDS WORLD. 



Is her fur; 
If you stroke it 

She will purr. 
Dot won't hurt you 

With her claws; 
Keeps them hidden 

In her paws. 
She's all white but 

One wee spot, 
That is why her 

Name is Dot. 
Often when my 

Grandma knits, 
Close beside her 

Kitty sits. 
Watching, watching 

Grandma's ball, 
Wishing she would 

Let it fall. 
When it does drop, 

Oh! the- fun! 
You should see how 

Dot can run ! 
Dot has never 

Caught a rat; 
She's too little 

Yet for that; 
She is only 

Good at play. 
But she'll catch the 

Rats some day. 

Emilie Poulsson. 



SPOTTY'S FAMILY. 

Once we had a beautiful cat with Wue eyes and a coat of soft 
fur which was entirely white, except for a black tip on the tail 
and a black spot over each eye. We called her Spotty, and she 
was a great pet in the household. 

When my brother played on the violin in the evening, Spotty, 
who was always in the parlor at that time, would try to catch 
the shadow of his bow on the door. Why she could not catch it 
puzzled her greatly; but, of course, she never did. 

At meal-times she was allowed to sit in my brother's lap, but she 



IN THE child's WORLD. ■ 147 

never lifted her head above the table, even when he was eating 
fish, of which, you know, eats are very fond. 

Spotty had four kittens. One was white, one black, one gray, 
and one looked just like Sjaotty. She kept them on a carpet bed 
under the front doorstep. When Spotty chose this place she 
thought it would be very safe and comfortable for her babies, 
but it did not prove so. One day, before the kittens were old 
enough to open their eyes, there came a cold rainstorm. Down 
poured the water through a crack between the doorstep and the 
house, and poor Spotty found that her babies were getting wet. 
I suppose she said to herself: " Mew! Mewl AVhat shall I do? 
It is not good for such little babies to be wet. Let me see — 
Whitie, I'll put you into this little corner where the rain does 
not come. Blackie, I '11 wrap you in the carpet. Graylie, I can 
cover you with my body. But what shall I do with my poor 
little Spotty? I know you are uncomfortable, dear child, but 
what can I do? xVh! I know! I will call the master; he will 
take care of my babies! " 

I suppose that is what Spotty said to herself; at any rate, as 
we sat in the parlor we heard a loud mewing. My brother ran 
out and found Spotty and her family just as I have described 
them to you, under the doorstep in the wet. He took up the 
kittens and carried them into the house. Spotty followed, jnirr- 
ing loudly and rubbing against his leg, which was her way of 
saying: "Thank you, master, for saving my babies." 

Although poor Spotty's fur was wet through, she paid no atten- 
tion to herself, but stood and watched while we rubbed the kit- 
tens dry, wrajiped them up in warm flannel and laid them by the 
stove. Then she went to the stove also, and began to lick her 
fur. Before long the heat of the fire and the use of her tongue 
had dried her coat nicely, so that she could lie down beside her 
babies. They nestled up to her as if they were very glad to have 
their mother again. 

After the storm was Over my brother made another bed for 
them in a place where the rain could not come, and Spotty had 
no more trouble in bringing up her family. 

Josephine Jarvis. 

Cobden, 111. 



THE HORSE. 



To THE Teacher: — 

We cannot, of course, make anything 
like an exhaustive study of any subject 
which we take up. Agassiz's whole life- 
time and all his intellectual power were 
inadequate to the one creature — the fish — 
to which he devoted them; and the Greek 
professor who had been absorbed in the 
study of Greek grammar all his life regret- 
ted on his death-bed that he had not con- 
fined himself closely to one of the Greek 
particles ! 
Hopeless indeed would be our task if the 
only result aimed at were the actual knowledge which the children could 
formulate after our talks Bvit we can hope to increase their interest in 
the wonders that surround them and to train them to observant habits of 
mind. So, although we must take all manner of pains to have our knowl- 
edge accurate and thorough, in order that whatever impression i.s made 
upon the children shall be correct, we must ever remember that our 
object is to lead to observation, not to formulation. 







THE TALK. 

(Begin the talk with a few review questions on the cat, so that 
some of the salient points will be fresh in the children's minds. 
These points would be that the cat has a backbone, gives milk to 
its little ones, has four feet, ears that stand up, eyes that can see 
in the dark, skin covered wath hair, and is affectionate and 
useful. 

Having thus established a basis for comparison of the two ani- 
mals, let some child go to the window and tell what animal he 
sees. If a dog is spoken of, notice the same points, though not 
dwelling at length upon this animal. 

A horse will doubtless soon be spied from the window. Let 



IX THE child's AVORLD. U9 

the description be given by different children, each child con- 
tributing uii item. 

As the items are given, lead to comparison, noticing both like- 
nesses and differences.) Tlie horse has four feet. Is that like 
the cat? like the dog? like a man? like a bird? 

When Pussy walks does she make much noise? Suppose one 
of those horses out in the street should come into the kindergar- 
ten and walk about, could we hear him? What makes the 
dift'erence? Yes; the horse is so big and heavy, that is one rea- 
son; and another reason is that he has iron shoes on his feet 
instead of just little soft cushions. Those little cushions grow 
on Pussy's feet; do the iron shoes grow on the horse's feet? Who 
makes the horse's shoes? If the horse had no shoes on, could he 
step as softly as Pussy? No; because he is heavier, and because 
his hoofs are hard and would make a noise. What are his hoofs? 
(Probably none of the children have seen a horse's foot without 
a shoe on. If a picture can be obtained, show it while making 
the explanation.) 

Look at the ends of your fingers. What do you see there? 
Yes, finger-nails. And what does Pussy have on her feet besides 
the cushions? Y'es, sharp claws. Now the horse's hoof is some- 
thing like our finger-nails and Pussy's claws, only very much 
]arger and thicker and harder and stronger. So, if the horse 
should walk into the kindergarten, even without his iron shoes 
on, we could hear him because of his hard hoofs. 

What is the shape of the horse's face? Where are the horse's 
eyes? He can see in front, at the side, and far back at the side; 
and can see in faintest twilight also, though his eyes are not like 
Pussy's. Instead of feeling about with whiskers, tlie horse feels 
with his lips — can pick up even shortest grass by their help. 

What is the horse's tail made of? Is it of any use? Where is 
his mane? Is that of any use? What does the horse eat? 
Fresh green grass, hay, oats, bran, etc. Where do they come 
from? Yes, they grow. Who plants the oats? Who cuts the 
grass? Does the horse do anything for the farmer? AVhat other 
work can horses do? Watch the horses in the street and see 
what you can find out to tell us about them — what color they 
are, what kind of work they are doing, how they are fastened to 



150 IX THK child's world. 

the carts and wagons which they draw; perhaps your mamma or 
pajaa will tell you a story about a horse. 

(Draw the children's attention to the intelligence of the horse 
by telling how the wild horses go in troojDS, little colts and 
weaker ones in the center, and big, strong horses on the outside, 
the biggest and strongest of all being the leader. Tell how obe- 
dient all are to the leader, and how much safer and happier they 
are because of that obedience. 

As regards kind and unkind treatment of horses, something 
should be said, but our efforts should mainly be directed toward 
establishing such sympathetic feeling as will effectually dictate 
kind treatment. 

The discomfort of check-reins and blinders, the unwarranta- 
ble mutilation of the dock-tail and the cruelty of whipping 
should be discountenanced, of course; but better than much 
inveighing against these things, especially with little children, 
is the relating of stories suggestive of kind deeds. 

For instance, tell of a child who prevented an accident by 
picking up a big piece of paper which was blowing about the 
streets and frightening the horses; or tell of the little girl who 
lived on a hilly street and was sorry for the poor horses who 
slipped so in going up and down, and how she used to go out 
and sprinkle ashes on the slippery places.) 



IN THE child's WORLD. 151 



ThACHER'S READING. 

Winners in Life's Race (Chap. X), - - . Arabella Buckle]/ 

Tlie Trouble Grandpa Nature had with the Horse, Wide Awake, Oct., 1891 
In the Country of the Horses ('' Gulliver's Travels"), - Dean Swift 

Description of Horse, . . . . - Job, xxxix: 19 

The Chimera, ....... Hawthorne 

Pegasus in Pound, ...... Longfellow 

Pegasus in Harness, ..-._. Schiller 

Muleykeh (Dramatic Idylls, 2nd Series), - - - R. Browning 

"How they brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix," R. Browning 
East and West, ------ Ruayard Kipling 

John Gilpin, _-..--- Cow per 

Paul Revere, ..--... Longfellow 

Sheridan's Ride, - - - - - - T. Buchanan Read 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

Black Beauty, - - - - * - - AnvM Sewell 

Kicking, -.-..--. Mrs. Gatty 
The Bell of Atri, ------- Longfellow 

At the Back of the North Wind, . - _ George MncDonaia 



STORIES. 

A WISE OLD HORSE. 

I will tell you a true story of this horse.* He was the horse of 
a Mr. Lane; and Mr. Lane, on going home one day, turned the 
horse into a field to graze. 

A few days before this, the horse had been shod, but had been 
"pinched," as the blacksmiths call it, in the shoeing of one foot; 
that is, the shoe was so tight as to hurt the foot. 

The next morning, after Mr. Lane had turned the horse into 
the field to graze, he missed him. " What can have become of 
old Sol?" asked he. The name of the horse was Solomon. He 
was so named because he was wise. 



♦Tbe animal belonged to the late Mr. J. Lane, of Freacombe, Gloucestershirp.EcBland, 
and tiie anecdote on which the story is founded i-i told by the Rev. Thomas Jackson. 



153 IN THE CHILD'S WORLD. 

When Mr. Lane asked where old Sol was, Tim, the stable-bo}-, 
said, ''I think some thief must have got him; for I cannot find 
Sol in the field or in the cow-yard." 

" What makes you think that a thief has got him?" said Mr. 
Lane. 

'•'Well, sir," said Tim, ''the gate of the field has been lifted 
off the hinges, and left on the ground." 

"That is no proof that a thief took the horse," said Mr. Lane. 
"I think that old Sol must have done that himself. I will tell 
you how we can find out. We will look at the gate; and, if there 
is a mark of SoFs teeth on it, we shall know he has let himself 
out." 

So they went to the gate, and there, ou the top rail, was the 
mark of a horse's teeth. 

" Now, why should old Sol want to get out of this nice field, 
so full of grass and clover?" thought Mr. Lane. 

"Perhaps," said Tim, "the blacksmith can tell us about him." 

" I will drive over to the blacksmith's shop, and see," said Mr. 
Lane. 

So Mr. Lane drove over to the blacksmith's shop, which Avas a 
mile and a half oft', and said to Mr. Clay, the blacksmith, " Have 
you seen any thing of old Sol?" 

"Why, to be sure!" said Mr. Clay. "Old Sol came here to- 
day, and told me I had made a bad job of it in jDutting the shoe 
on his left fore-foot.'" 

"What do you mean, Mr. Clay?" said Mr. Lane. "A horse 
cannot talk." 

" Oh, true! he did not say it in words; but he said it by acts as 
plainly as I can say it. He came to the forge where I stood; and 
then held up his foot, and looked at me, as if he would like to 
say, if he could, 'Mr. Clay, you are getting careless in your old 
age. Look at that shoe. See how it j^inches my foot. Is that 
the way to shoe a decent old horse like me? Now, arc not you 
ashamed of yourself? Ease that shoe at once. Take it olr, and 
put it", on in a better way.' " 

" Can it be that old Sol said all that by his look?" asked 3[r. 
Lane, laughing. 

"All that, and more," said Mr. Clav. "lie stood still.asa 




Going to the Bl,acksmith's 



154 IX THE child's world. 



post while I tooii off the shoe. And then I put it on so it might 
not hurt him. And, when I had done it, he gave a merry neigh, 
as if to say, ' Thank you, Mr. Clay,' and off he ran. And now, 
if you will go back to the field, you will find him there eating 
his breakfast.'' 

fSo Mr. Lane laughed, and bade Mr. Clay good- morning; and 
back to the field he drove. And there he found Tim putting up 
the gate; and there in the field was old Sol eating grass, and a& 
happy as could be. 

Was not Sol a wise old horse? 

Emily Carter. 
7)1 " The Nursenj.'^ 



PEGASUS. 



In the land of Lycia, with its fertile grain fields and gardens^ 
there once came a terrible great creature which ruined the crops 
and laid everything waste before it. The king of the country 
was in great trouble and knew not what to do. It happened 
that a young man seeking adventures had just come to the court, 
and the king bade him make ready to fight the monster. The 
young man — whose name was Bellerophon — was eager to succeed, 
but he knew that this was a dangerous undertaking. 

One night, as he lay pondering how he should accomplish this 
great deed and bring safety to the people, he fell asleep and 
dreamed that Minerva (Athene), the Wise Goddess, came to him 
and put a golden bridle in his hand. When he arose in the 
morning his foot touched something on the floor. He looked 
down, and there lay the golden bridle of his dream. Minerva, 
he thought, must have given it to him, and must have meant to 
show him that she would lend him aid, but Avhat he was to do 
with a bridle he did not know. He still held it in his hand as 
he crossed the grass to the sjoring. The water was bubbling 
from its source just as usual, but what was the wonderful crea- 
ture drinking there? Bellerophon stojoped, filled with aston- 
ishment and delight, and stood gazing at its beauty. It was a 



IN THE child's WORLD. 155 

horse of snowy whiteness, with great, dazzling white wings; one 
dainty hoof was in the water and its long mane fell forward as it 
stooped to drink. The moment it caught sight of Bellerophon 
it threw up its head with a startled look and seemed on the point 
of dashing away or of rising into the air on its broad wings. 

As Belleroplion took a step forward — the horse eyeing the 
golden harness in liis hand — he hardly dared tliink he could 
bridle such a beautiful wdd creature. Yet it seemed to him tliat 
this must be what Minerva meant him to do. When he made 
the attempt the horse trembled a little, but did not resist, and 
even allowed liim to vault upon its back. As Bellerophon sat 
securely in his j)lace and the liorse pranced and curveted over the 
grass, the two were certainly a fine pair to look upon. Still 
more so when the horse suddenly spread his wings and the two 
were seen sailing through the air as easily as an eagle soars over 
the fields and hills. 

Now Bellerophon felt that, with the aid of this wonderful 
horse, he miglit hope to conquer the monster. The next day he 
set out with Pegasus — that was the horse's name — and they did 
conquer it, so that all the land was free again. 

When they came back to the spring where the horse had first 
appeared, Bellerophon led him to the water and stood watching 
as Pegasus drank of the cool stream. Bellerophon knew that he 
must free the horse now, and let him return to his favorite abiding 
place high upon the mountains. There among the snowy peaks 
Pegasus loved to dwell, though he came down now and then to 
some flowery meadow to crop the young grass or to drink of the 
clear waters of the springs. Bellerophon grieved to lose him, 
and Pegasus, too, seemed sorry that they must part. After 
Bellerophon had taken off his bridle the horse whinnied and 
thrust his nose into Bellerophon's hand, as if to tell him he 
would come back again. Then with a bound and a rushing of 
wings he was gone. 

He did come back afterwards to help in other brave deeds, 
and Bellerophon and the swift-winged horse were always fast 
friends. 

F. H. 



156 IX THE child's world. 



THE HOKSE THAT FED HIS FRIEND, 

L. H. sends this true story about a horse: — 

There were two horses, one of them blind, belonging to a 
country doctor out West, who for eighteen years drove them on 
his rounds of visiting, generally harnessing them together. 

One evening, the doctor took out his blind horse alone, and 
drove him until late. Oti his return he put the horse into a stall 
next to that of its mate, there being a tight board partition be- 
tween them from floor to ceiling. Then he threw some ears of 
corn into the manger and went in-doors. 

By and by, the doctor was startled by curious sounds from the 
stable, and he took a lantern and went to see what was the mat- 
ter. As he drew near, he heard the two mates calling and answer- 
ing each other in cheerful tones; and, when he looked into the 
stable, there was the blind horse pushing ears of corn to his friend 
through a big knot-hole in the partition! The two old chums 
were having a brotherly chat, and enjoying it all the more because 
they were going halves in something good to eat. 

St. Nicholas. 

June, 1880. 



THE cow. 



To THE Teacitki:: — 

In taking the cow for our subject, it seems 
advi'sable to lay most stress upon itsiiroducts, 
since they are more familiar to city children 
than the animal itself. But this has been so 
admirably, indeed so perfectly, done already 
in the series of object lessons on the cow in 
Miss Wiltse's book "Kindergarten Stories and 
. Morning Talks," that a different line is taken 
here, recurring to the idea presented in " The 

Baker" — that is, that even our commonest necessities are procured for 

us by the self-sacrifice and labor of many people. 




THE TALK. 

(A little guessing play is iisualh' much relished by children, and 
is also rather quickening to their wits; so it may well have place 
occasionally in kindergarten. 

Give a few easy objects first, like the piano, the plants, the ilag, 
etc., to get the children started in guessing the object from a 
brief description; then let them guess the cat and the horse in 
the same manner.) 

And now, says the teacher, I am thinking of another animal. 
It has a backbone, it has four legs, it gives milk to its little ones. 
It is like the cat and the horse both, in all those things, isir't it? 

It is a large animal, it has hoofs, and it eats grass. Is that like 
the cat? No. Like the horse? Yes. But it has two horns. 
Is that like the horse? 

It lives in the barn and the farmer takes good care of it, for it 
is a good, kind creature and very useful. 



158 IX THE child's world. 

(Do not prolong the guessing beyond the point of lively inter- 
est, nor allow random guesses. If the children do not know by 
this time that it is the cow you are describing, tell what the animal 
says or show a picture. The talk should not be given without a 
good picture or pictures, since the cow is certainly not familiar 
to all the children. 

As the picture is shown, let the children give what descriptive 
items they can from it. The teacher will probably need to explain 
and supplement, noting the diflPerence between the cow's hoof and 
the horse's hoof, etc.) 

\yhen the cow bites off the grass or hay, she does not really eat 
it at first, but packs it away in a paunch or bag which she 
has inside her big body. (This paunch holds from fifteen to 
eighteen gallons.) 

When this big bag is full, the cow lies down; and the grass or 
hay, or whatever she has eaten, comes ujj into her mouth, one 
little ball of it at a time, and then she chews it and really eats it. 
Sheep, camels and deer also chew the cud. 

Who knows what the cow can give us for our breakfast? Yes, 
indeed I All the nice milk we drink comes from the cow. Per- 
haps soine of yott only thought of the milkman bringing the milk, 
but he had to get it from the farmer: and who do you stTppose 
gave it to the farmer but the good old cow! 

Many people have been working already this morning so that 
we could have milk for our breakfasts, to drink or to put in tea 
or coffee. 

Somebody had to get up early to milk the cows and get the 
cans of milk ready for the milkman: and the milkman had to start 
out early, too, no matter how cold or stormy it was: and the horse 
had to iQave his nice, cosy stable and drag the wagon loaded with 
the heavy cans of milk all the way to the train or to town for us; 
and then the mother had to get the breakfast ready. 

Which of you children had milk to drink this morning? 
Let us count how many there are to whom we must say 
*' Thank you "for it. 




Milking. 



159 



i()0 IN THE child's AVORLD, 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Winners in Life's Race (Chap. X), . - - Arabella Buckley 

Our Rural Divinities (" Birds and Poets"), - - John Burroutjhs 

Rudder Grange, ------ Frank E. Stockton 

Europa and the White Bull, ) /^ rp,, „ y^ „ . r^ 4.\ >)» rr ,. 

Cadmus and the Stray Cow! | (' Tbe Dragon's Teeth"), Hawthorne 

The Drovers. I . . . . Whiff ipr 

Among the Hills, J tytiimer 

High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire, - - Jean Ingelow 

Milking, ------- Celia Thaxter 

The Milkmaid, ----- Henry Austin Dobson 

The Cowboy's Song, A. M. Wells 

Farmyard Song, - - - - - - J. T. Trowbridge 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

Thank you, pretty Cow, ----- Jane Taylor 

Stories about the Cow (" Kindergarten Stories and Morning 

Talks"), ------ S. E. Wiltse 



STORIES. 

THE STORY THE MILK TOLD ME. 

Did you have a drink of good, sweefc milk this morning? YesI 
Well, so did I, and let me tell you the story it told me as it stood, 
white and creamy, in the tall glass. 

You see, just as I was lifting it to my lips, it looked so foam- 
ing and fresh, that I said, "Good milk, do tell me where you 
came from before the milkman brought you to me?" 

The milk bubbled up a little, then settled down quietly and 
said, " Yes, I will tell you about it. Before the milkman brought 
me to you I stood in a bottle with ever so many other bottles, in 
a dark, cool ice box in the milkman's shop, where we shivered 
and grew very cold." "Then that is what makes you so cold 
now, is it?" said I. "Yes," bubbled the milk. "Well, before 
I lived in the milkman's shop, I was swimming around with ever 



IN THE child's WORLD. IGi 

SO much other milk in a very lai'c^e milk-can, out in the country, 
waiting to be bottled and carried to the city'' — " OhI" I interrupt- 
ed, " I didn't know you came from the country. Do you grow 
on trees or in the ground ? " The milk laughed so hard and shook 
so, that it almost spilled itself over on the tablecloth, and I was 
afraid it would break the glass. As soon as it could speak again, 
it said: ''Dear me! Didn't you know that before I was put 
into the milk-can, I came right from the old ''bossy cow," who 
stands in the meadow by the river, chewing her cud? But before 
that, and before I was white, creamy milk as you see me now, I 
grew tall and green on the river bank. No wonder you look 
astonished. Yes, I was grass for the good old cow to eat." " And 
before you were milk you were grass! How funny! And before 
that?" " That is too long a stor\^," rippled the milk; "and too 
difficult for me to tell and for you to understand." 

" But where do you go after I drink you ? " I asked. " Oh ! after 
you drink me," answered the milk, " I change into rich, red 
blood, to make your body grow strong and healthy." 

"Dear, good milk," said I, as I once more lifted the glass to 
my lips, "then I won't say good-bye to you, before I drink you 
but I will thank our Heavenly Father for making you, and thank 
the good old cow for giving you, and the kind milkman for bring- 
ing you to me." 

Then I drank the cool, sweet milk, but I remembered its story 
to tell to you. 

Gertrude H. Noyes. 



- THE COW THAT LOST HER TAIL. 

There was once a Cow who had the misfortune to lose her tail. 
History does not tell us the exact manner in which this unhappy 
event took place. Perhaps some enemy struck the foul blow 
Avhich deprived the poor animal of this useful ornament. Perhaps 
some tail disease made amputation necessary. Perhaps the mow- 
ers struck the tail off accidentally with their scythes. Perhaps 
— but there are so many "perhapses" in the world that I will not 
try to guess any more, but will tell you what I really do know 



ir,2 IN" THE CHILD S WORLD. 

about the matter, which Avas told me by the tillet of veal we had 
for dinner the other day, which belonged to a Calf who was own 
son to the very Cow to whom the affair happened. Wise old 
George Herbert. Avho, in his day, wrote pretty poetry and invented 
curious proverbs, had one saying, the truth of which our Cow 
certainly proved. Said he, in his wisdom: "The Cow never 
knoweth the value of her tail till she loseth it;'* and this was the 
case with our poor friend. In former days she had thought but 
little of her tail, and, indeed, had sometimes spoken of it as rather 
an inconvenience, getting between her legs in an awkward man- 
ner, and being of little use at best. But the blessings we think 
least of in our hours of idle prosperity are really often those the 
loss of which would be the most serious misfortune which could 
happen to us. And thus, when the Cow found that her tail was 
actually gone, she began to miss it greatly, and to regret its loss 
uncommonly. 

In the hot summer days, when the cattle collected around the 
trees to stand under the welcome shade, the flies came buzzing 
about as usual, annoying the poor creatures as much as they could. 
Swish, swish, went the tails of the other cows, brushing off the 
tiresome insects, and fanning their own poor sides at the same 
time. But our Cow was a helpless victim to the tormentors, who 
settled upon her by hundreds at a time, and drove her nearly 
wild. Then when the animals were tired of standing still, and 
scampered across the field down to the i)ond at a fast gallop, with 
their tails stretched out at full length, our poor Cow galloped too, 
but she cut the most ridiculous figure without a tail, and felt 
very small among the well-tailed cows around her. In the pond, 
too, it was no better; the flies were more troublesome than ever 
there, and she was obliged to walk in much deeper than she liked, 
because she could not brush them away for want of a tail. 

What made it most trying of all was the scorn and ridicule of 
the other cows, who would never leave off laughing at her mis- 
fortune. Nay, the very calves would not let her alone, and old 
Jessie, the donkey, was almost the only one Avho had a kind word 
for her; for she herself had been so jeered at and insulted through 
life that she had learned to have some feeling for other people 
when they Avere in the like case. 



IN THE child's WOliLD. 1 (J3 



At first the Cow tried to endure tlieir laughter quietly, and put 
the matter off with a joke, saying that ''at least no one could 
now accuse her of being a tale-bearer." But this was foolish, 
you know, particularly as the words are not spelt the same, which 
the other cows knew perfectly Avell, and only " chaffed '' her all 
the more, until her life really became a burdei; to her. 

Under these painful circumstances, she at last determined to 
seek the assistance of a venerable Farrier who lived near, and who 
had great experience in all the diseases and afflictions with which 
mortal cows are surrounded. He was as kind-hearted as he was 
skillful, and, on the promise of a pint of milk daily for a week, 
expressed his readiness to provide the Cow with a new tail. The 
promise was willingly given, and the bargain struck. Before the 
week was out, a tail, carefully made of thick-plaited straw, was 
cleverly fastened to the Cow's back, painted the color of a proper 
tail, and warranted by the Farrier to act in every way like the 
lost ornament. 

Proud and happy at her cure, the Cow returned to her com- 
panions, and swished her tail about as merrily as any of them for 
a couple of days. The other animals, whatever they might have 
thought, said but little, and were in truth glad enough that a 
cure had been found which might be required by any one of them 
at a futui'c time. 

Not long, however, did this state of things last. A shower of 
rain washed off some of the paint, and, as she was lashing her 
sides near to a thick hedge, her tail caught in a bramble, which 
tore out several straws when she moved on. After this, every 
thing she caught in, or touched, damaged the tail more and more 
— the straw came unplaited, some fell out eacli time she lashed 
her sides, and in a very short time she was as tail-less and miser- 
able as ever. 

Again she sought the Farrier, and laid her case before him, 
complaining, witb a melancholy " moo," that his cure had proved 
ineffectual. The worthy man expressed his deej) regret, but, in 
consideration of her grief, agreed to furnish another tail at the 
same price as before. This time it was one which no bramble 
could tear, for it was made of clay, thoroughly beaten up and 
hardened, and then twisti'd into the form of a tail. It was (^are- 



1G4 IN THE child's would. 



fully fastened on by the Farrier, painted agiiiu as the straw tail 
had been, and appeared likely to answer in every respect. 

The Cow returned again to her friends with joy, and, although 
she found her new instrument rather awkward at first, was in 
great hopes that it would be of much service to her. For several 
days all went well, and she recovered her health and spirits, which 
had begun to suffer. But one afternoon, while the cattle were 
out in the meadows, a storm came on, which raged for several 
hours. The rain came down in torrents, and there was no shelter 
to be had. Alas for our Cow ! The paint of her tail gradually drop- 
ped off in large drops, and little by little the hard clay softened 
with the wet. When she lashed her sides, a long clay mark was 
left behind, just as if some one had struck her with a muddy 
whip, and she felt her tail slipping from her, and becoming lighter 
and smaller at every lash. By the next morning she presented a 
lamentable appearance, and it was impossible for her to make any 
use of the stunted and injured bit of tail which was left. 

She betook herself at once to her friend the Farrier, who did 
his best to comfort her, and, after some thought over the matter, 
agreed to supply her with a third tail, for the gift of a pint of 
milk every day for a fortnight. Tiiis was to be a more ex]^>ensive 
tail, and required more care in making, and greater strength in 
the fastenings. So you will think, when I tell you that it was 
made of iron, and in fact was very like a pump-handle. It was 
duly painted and put on, and once more our Cow appeared among 
her friends with a respectable appendage. 

But a new and cruel difficulty now appeared. The weight of 
the new tail was so great as to cause the Cow serious inconven- 
ience. She did not feel it at first, but, as days wore on, it seemed 
to drag her backward by its weight, and made it necessary for her 
to rest frequently and for some time. Then, when she lashed her 
sides, it struck her such a blow as nearly to break her ribs, and 
in a short time she found she really had no strength left to lash 
her sides at all. Day by day she grew weaker and weaker, until 
at last it was evident that her constitution would break down 
under the suffering which she had imposed upon herself by the 
purchase of this iron tail. She therefore went to the Farrier, 
who was much shocked at her appearance, but at once carefully 



IX THE CHILD'8 AVOULD. 165 

removed the tail and gave her some strengtheumg medicine. He 
then told her that it was j^lain that a light tail was the only thing 
for her case, and that, although straw had failed, he thought a 
hay tail might answer the j)urpose. He therefore twisted a tail 
of hay with great care, secured it as firmly as he could, and sent 
her off without asking for payment. 

The change was indeed delightful; she swished the flies away 
as easily as possible — ran with her tail stretched out as well as 
the best of them, and speedily recovered her health and spirits. 
But at the end of a week her dream of happiness suddenly ended 
in an unexpected manner. She was standing lazily under a tree, 
close to the wire fence by the road, dreaming of the past and 
speculating on the future in a sleepy manner, when, a fly having 
settled on her back, she attempted as usual to brush it off with 
her tail. Some slight resistance appeared to be offered, as if some 
one was holding her by the tail, and when it yielded, to her hor- 
ror the tail fell far short of the fly, and in fact only just touched 
her side at all. Turning round in the most indign:int surprise, 
she beheld a half-starved tinker's horse, who had been browsing 
by the roadside, and, seeing what he supposed to be a tempting 
wisp of hay hanging to a cow within his reach, had quietly put 
his head over the wire fence and eaten off more than half her 
tail before she found it out. She moo'd loudly with rage, hut 
could do nothing, and had, moreover, the mortification of seeing 
the wayfaring beast enjoying his last mouthful with the keenest 
relish. 

Driven to despair by this new misfortune, the poor Cow now 
applied once more to her friend the Farrier, assuring him that 
she would do anything in the world to obtain real and lusting 
relief from her affliction, for she felt th»t if she could not be re- 
tailed, she should meet her end before long in tail-less despair. 

The man replied that he certainly thought hers a peculiarly 
hard case, and that luck seemed against her altogether. He 
thought, however, that if she could go to the expense of a pint of 
milk daily for a month, he could afford her a remedy with which 
she would not be disappointed. 

The poor Cow eagerly consented to his demand, and he then 
produced an india-rubber tail, of great strength and beauty. It 



1(JG IN THE CHILI) S WORLD. 

was at once light enough to enable her to brush off the flies with- 
out the least difficulty, pliant enough to be easily moved to and 
fro at pleasure, and strong enough to resist the assaults of bram- 
bles, Avhile it offered no temptation to the hay-loving horse, and 
was superior to the effects of the most drenching rain that ever 
descended upon the earth. 

When fairly in possession of this splendid tail, the delight of 
our old friend knew no bounds. There was no tail like it in the 
field. She could now run, fling out her tail, and swish her sides 
to her heart's content. She could brush away flies with the best 
of them, and apparently there lay before her a long life of unin- 
terrupted happiness. Alas! how sad it is that the bright and 
beautiful fades so soon from off this earth ! The happiest moments 
of our lives are always the shortest; and the sun of our prosperity 
only seems to shine for a moment, that Ave may feel the contrast 
more bitterly when the clouds of sorrow darken and shut it from 
our sight. Man's joy is brief; and cows are no better off than 
men. One short month our Cow wagged her tail in blissful 
security, and then came a return of trouble. 

On one memorable evening, after a day passed in the usual 
routine of a cow's life, she was duly milked and driven into her 
happy lodge, where she lay down peacefully to sleep. She dreamed 
of grassy meadows along the river's side, where the cowslips seemed 
to flourish and to kiss the streamlet's tide; and she fancied she 
was wandering about the flowery mead, and stopping here and 
there upon the clover-grass to feed. She thought of happy days 
gone by, and Joys she used to feel; of calves that she had loved 
and lost — all long since turned to veal. And she wished that 
cows did not to men less valuable seem, for calves that they pre- 
sent to them, than for their milk and cream. She slept, I say, 
so peacefully and dreamt of former joys, and all around were 
hushed to rest — she never heard a noise; but on she slept, and 
seemed to feel her milk would never fail, as long as she her treas- 
ure kept — that india-rubber tail! 

That was the kind of dream our Cow had, full of pleasant things 
and no thought of coming evil. But towards morning she woke 
with a start, and looked sharply round, as she heard a pattering 
of little feet hurrying away over the straw on which she lay. 



iisr THE child's world. 167 

Milkpails und dairymaids! What ou earth was this? More sor- 
row, more trouble, more misfortune. The thievish, wicked and 
ravenous rats had been at her tail. They had been sharp enough 
to discover that it was not real flesh, and, this being the case, 
that they could freely nibbleit without being detected by its sleep- 
ing owner. And it must be confessed that the rascals had made 
the best use of their opportunity. It was so gnawed, nibbled, torn, 
and eaten, that a mere apology for a tail was all that remained. 
No more peace — no more comfort — no more repose and happiness 
for the wretched Cow. She bellowed with anguish, rendered 
worse by the appearance of a venerable Rat, who sat upon the 
manger hard by, licking his lips, with greedy remembrance of his 
last bite. 

" Oh, you vile robber!'' exclaimed the jjoor Cow; " what have 
I ever done to yoit that you should treat me thus? Cowardly 
thieves that you all are, I wish the rat-catchers had the whole lot 
of ye!" 

"Madam," returned the Rat, gravely, ''your observations are 
scarcely polite; but I can make every allowance for your wounded 
feelings. But let this event teach you to avoid shams. If people 
will wear things which are not their own, sooner or later they are 
sure to be found out; and whether it be the case of a young lady's 
back hair or a cow's tail, of course it is not pleasant for deceivers 
that their deceit should be exposed: this exposure, however, is 
part of an honest rat's duty, and I confess I am rejoiced to have 
been able to assist in detecting an impostor." 

So saying, the Rat retired to his own place, leaving the un- 
tailed Cow to moo out her grief alone. What could she do now? 
Where could she go? Her confidence in the Farrier was really 
shaken, for had he not re- tailed her five times, and each time 
failed to produce an article that would really last? Straw, clay, 
iron, hay, and now india rubber, all had come to nought! Was 
it of any use to try once more, or should she leave off in despair, 
and make the best of a bad job? In her doubt and difficulty she 
bethought herself of kind Jessie the donkey, and sought her 
advice. 

'' Mother Cow," said Jessie, somewhat flattered at the confi- 
dence in her ja:lgmont which was shown by her neighbor in con- 



168 IN THE CHILl/S AVORLD. 

suiting her, " I am a meek and humble animal, and fear to give 
advice which may not be agreeable. At the same time, if you 
value my poor opinion, which is based upon my OAvn experience 
of the world, it is very much at your service. I, too, have not 
been without my trials in life. I have constantly been called an 
ass to my face, and that, too, possibly not without reason. I have 
been told that I am stupid, when I feel that I am only somewhat 
less quick than might be in understanding matters of a subtle 
nature. I have been called idle and lazy when I am really only 
constitutionally slow; and I have not unfrequently been termed 
an obstinate brute when I was really only showing that patient 
resolution which true wisdom dictated. Along with all this abuse, 
I have had quite my full share of kicks and blows, and may fairly 
say that my life has had more of the rough than of the smooth in 
it. I have always found it best to endure patiently and quietly 
the trials A/liich come upon me, and time has wrought its ou^n 
cure. My skin is now so tough that I feel but little of the blows 
given me, and the abuse falls upon my accustomed ears without 
producing the smallest effect upon my tranquil spirit. Why 
should not the same line of conduct prove of advantage in your 
case? I think you have perhaps taken some unnecessary trouble, 
and flurried yourself a good deal too much. Learn to put up with 
that which cannot be avoided, and you will be a liap|)ier Cow, as 
I am sure that my misfortunes and hardships have made me a 
more contented donkey.'' 

The Cow listened with attention to Jessie's remarks, and then 
told her of the words which had fallen from the Eat, and asked 
her whether she thought there was anything in them; because, 
if shams were really as wrong as he had represented, she had 
certainly not done well in applying to the Farrier for false tails, 
and accepting them at his hands. 

'' Upon that point," replied the Donkey, " I am hardly capable 
of giving an opinion. Undoubtedly it is better to be always honest 
and straightforward, and not to pretend to have that which you 
do not really possess. But you cannot say that a man is wrong 
to wear a cork leg if he has lost his own limb; and although ladies' 
hair is a matter quite out of my line of business, I don't see any 
great harm in their using any device to make themselves look as 



IN THE child's AVORLD. 1G!J 

nice as possible. The case of a Cow and her tail is very different. 
A useful article is lost, and you try to replace it by one as nearly 
like it as you can get. There is no sham in the matter of which 
any decent Cow need be ashamed, and the Rat's remarks only 
sprang from his own evil nature and nasty disposition." 

Somewhat reassured by the words of her friend, the Cow 
thanked her with a grateful bellow, and, after pondering for some 
time over what she had said, determined to go to the Farrier 
once more; not to ask for any more tails, but to have the stump 
of her old tail so treated that she might suffer as little future 
inconvenience as possible. 

She found the good man as kind as usual, and he expressed 
both surprise and sorrow at the result of his last experiment. 
He was quite ready to suggest that other tails should be tried, 
and produced an article manufactured of rope, which he said 
would be by no means a disagreeable substitute for the lost append- 
age. But the Cow steadily refused. The words of the Donkey 
had made a great impression upon her, and she Avas resolved to 
endure with patience the affliction with which she had been visited. 

Now, in this particular, my children, you will do Avell to follow 
the example of our friend the Cow. It is true that Providence 
has not adorned you with tails, and you are therefore secure from 
the particular misfortune which befell this worthy animal. But 
aches and pains are things to which children — and groAvn-up 
people, too — are unhappily subject; and when you have these, or 
any more serious illness, to bear, the great thing is to determine 
to be patient and gentle, and endure the pain bravely and quietly; 
by which means, not only does it really become more easy to bear, 
but your conduct makes those with whom you live love you bet- 
ter, and become more anxious to do all they can to help and com- 
fort you. So it Avas Avith our Cow. When she returned to the 
field Avith her stump of a tail properly dressed, and made no further 
pretence of concealing her misfortune, the scorn and laughter of 
the other animals soon gave Avay to pity. This pity grew into 
admiration as they beheld the meek spirit with Avhich the Coav 
submitted to her affliction, the patience which she displayed under 
the attacks of the flies, and the ready kindness with which she 
assisted any other animal to whom her services could be of value. 



170 IX 1HE child's world. 

In fact, she became celebrated among all the animals as one to 
whom any one might apply for advice, with the certainty that it 
would be cheerfully and wisely given. This calm disposition of 
mind and contented spirit were not without their effect upon her 
bodily condition. Her niilk became so plentiful and so rich that 
she was soon confessed to be the most valuable Cow upon the 
whole farm, and the dairymaid could never say enough in her 
favor, while her owner declared that he would never part with 
her while she lived. 

But her chief reward was yet to come. Standing one day by 
the wire fence, near the very spot where her hay-tail had been so 
unceremoniously taken from her, she heard a noise of approach- 
ing hoofs upon the road, and up trotted the same half-starved 
Horse who had inflicted the injury upon her. Accosting her 
with his politest neigh, he told her that he had heard of her good 
deeds and kindly disposition from many animals, and had often 
regretted the ill deed towards her of which he had been guilty. 

" I do not know, madam," he continued, " how far I may be 
able to make any atonement for my crime, but, in the course of 
my rambles, I have met a venerable Giraffe, attached to a travel- 
ling circus, who, having long studied the subject of tails, told me 
that he was possessed of an ointment which had performed some 
most remarkable cures in cases which had been previously deemed 
hopeless. After much earnest solicitation, I obtained from him 
a pot of this priceless medicine, which I respectfully offer for 
your acceptance.'' 

The Cow was much touched by this act of kindness and gener- 
osity on the part of the Tinker's Horse, and, though she had but 
little faith in the ointment, and felt it but too probable that the 
Giraffe might turn out to be one of those quack doctors who only 
deceive i)eople and injure their constitutions by the pretended 
remedies which they sell, yet she could do noless than accept the 
gift so freely offered, and promised the good Horse that she would 
certainly try it. 

The same evening, therefore, she got Jessie, the Donkey, to rub 
a little of the ointment upon her stump, and repeated the opera- 
tion three times a week, according to the directions on the oint- 
ment pot. 



IN THE GUILDS WORLD. ]71 



Extraordinary to relate, at the end of the first week a change 
really ai^peared in the stumjD. Hair came upon it, and Jessie said 
she could, almost fancy that it was a trifle longer. A fortnight 
passed, and doubt changed to certainty. Yes! the Cow's tail was 
undoubtedly growing! 

In her delight, the honest creature was for hurrying off to show 
the Farrier, but gave up the idea at the advice of the Donkey, 
who reminded her that, as a regular doctor, he was quite certain 
to be jealous of the Giraffe as a mere quack, and that mischief 
might possibly follow. Besides, she was going on well, and had 
better let well alone. 

Accordingly, our Cow staid quietly at home, and continued to 
se the ointment until the pot was empty. It had, however, 
lasted her for two months, at the end of which time her tail had 
grown to more than half its original length; and, having got a 
start, I am glad to say that it persevered in growing, until, in 
another couple of months' time, she had as good and serviceable 
a tail as any of her neighbors! 

Her past sorrows were now all forgotten. Kind words and 
congratulations were poured in upon her from every quarter. 
Her master wondered at the change for the better in her appear- 
ance, and the dairymaid was delighted at the good fortune which 
had befallen her favorite Cow. She herself was most thankful 
for the blessing which she now enjoyed, and always felt that it 
was owing to the patience with which she had borne her troubles, 
and the kindness which she had shown to all around her — which 
is a thing that, as in this very case, always brings its own reward. 

So she lived on, a happy, ])rosperous, and contented Cow all 
the days of her life. And Avhat do you think the Farrier said 
when he came to hear of it? Why, he declared that the Giraffe's 
ointment was all nonsense — it was his own dressing of the stump 
once which had wrought the cure, and that those quacks were 
always trying to claim credit for cures which the regular doct(>rs 
had really made. But if the Farrier knew he could make the 
Cow's tail grow all right again, why did he bother her at first 
with all those false tails? 

E. H. KNATCHBULL-ITrGESSEX. 
Puss-Ciit-Meio Stories for my Children, Harper lirotliers 



173 IS THE child's world. 

LORD CORNWALLIS' KNEE-BUCKLES. 

Have you ever heard about the Revolutionary War: it was 
fought between the British and the Americans more than a hun- 
dred years ago. I will .tell you a true story of a 11 trie girl who 
lived at the time. 

Her name was Anne Ran^lolph, and she lived on a farm not 
far from Philadelphia. Her father and her two brothers had 
joined the American army. So Anne and her mother were left 
alone to take cure of the farm. 

Two years before this time Anne's father had given her a beau- 
tiful calf, as a pet. The two had become great friends. The 
young cow knew her little mistress, and always came to be 
stroked when Anne went into the field. 

At one time during the war the English army was in Phila- 
delphia. 

One day the soldiers came to the farm of Mr. Randolph, alid 
seized Anne's pet cow. They tied a rope to her horns and drove 
her away. Anne begged for her pet, and was in great grief, but 
her words had no effect. 

It did not take long for Anne to think what she could do. 
She r;in to the stable and saddled her pony, and then rode at full 
speed to see Lord Cornwallis, the general of the English army. 
It was a brave thing for a'little girl only twelve years of age to do. 

A soldier with his gun was marching back and forth in front 
of the phice where the general was. 

" Wiiat do you want?" he asked Anne, as she galloped up. 

" I wish to see Lord Cornwallis," she said. 

" What is your business with him?" said the soldier. 

" I must see him; let me pass," replied the girl. 

The soldier let her pass, thinking, no doubt, she had very 
important news to tell. 

Lord Cornwallis and some of his friends were at dinner when 
little Anne rushed into the room. 

" What do you want, my child?" said the general. 

" I want my cow, sir. Your soldiers have taken her away, and 
I have come to get her. Oh! please, sir, you must let me have 
her." 



IN THE child's WORLD. 173 

" And who are you, my little girl?" said the general, kindly. 

" I am Anne Randolph, and I live three miles from here with 
my mother. Have yon seen my cow, sir?"' "Oh, sir," she 
continued, " I raised my cow myself. She has always been 
mine. She can't belong to you, I must have her. I would 
never steal your cow, sir," she said, proudly. 

The general rose. " Come here, my child. I promise you 
that your cow shall be safe in your barn to-morrow; and here, 
take these," he said, unfastening a pair of silver knee-buckles. 
" Keep them to remember me by, and if the soldiers trouble 
your cow again, come to me at once." 

The general kept his promise, and the next morning Anne's 
cow was once more safely housed in her own snug stable. 

The buckles were kept, and are kept to this very day. One of 
Anne's grandchildren has them. 

— Holmes' New Third Reader. 

University Publishing Co., New York. 



THE DOG. 



To THE Teachek:- 




The preceding talks upon animals have indi- 
cated sufficientlj^ a way of dealing with such 
subjects. Therefore, instead of a talk upon 
•■'The Dog," this composition, written by 
Helen Keller, is offered as containing the 
material from which the teacher can take what 
is suitable for her children. 

Most people will have read of this wonder- 
ful little girl, who, though blind and deaf and 
formerly dumb, has acquired such a command 
of language and such a fund of information, 
and who has such a lovely character. 

The stories and this composition are exactly 
as Helen wrote them, save for the omission 
of a few sentences. Anything of hers which 
has been used in this book was written by 
Helen when she was about ten years old and 
had been under instruction about three and a 
half years. E. P. 



THE TALK. 



THE DOG. 



Come here, Lioness, I have many strange things to tell vou 
about yourself. You may not believe it all, but it is true, and 
you must be still, like a good dog, and listen to what I have 
to say. 

Of course you know that you belong to the animal kingdom. 
You never could have thought you were a plant or a mineral, 
and everything else in the world belongs to the animal kingdom. 
You have a backbone, and that is why you are called a verte- 
brate; and when you have some cunning little puppies, you will 



IN THE child's WORLD. 175 

feed them with milk, as other mammuls do, and that is why the 
wise men put you in the class Mammalia. Then, Lioness, you 
know perfectly well that yau like raw meat better than anything 
else; and animals that eat raw meat are carnivorous. 

How many feet have you? Can't you count four? See, here 
are your two fore paws, and there are your two hind legs; and 
animals which have four feet are quadrupeds. 

Your legs are not as slender as Guy's, but they are very mus- 
cular. You are covered with pretty, soft, brown hair. It is 
straight, but generally dogs wear curled coats. Your chest is 
broad and deep, so that you can take a good breath when you 
wish to run swiftly. Your head is pointed, but not nearly so 
much so as Spoke's. Your mouth is filled with powerful teeth, 
similar in shape to the cat's teeth. You must not pull away 
your head so, for it is true, You are like Pussy in many things. 
Your tongue is soft, and you use it to lap up liquids. You 
never perspire through your skin as other animals do. When 
your body is heated, the moisture passes off from your tongue. 
That is why you always run with your tongue hanging out of 
your mouth. The under parts of your feet are padded, like the 
cat's. There are five toes on your fore feet, and five on your 
hind feet. The two middle ones are longest and equal. The 
fifth toes of your hind feet never touch the ground. Each toe 
has a strong, blunt claw, which is not retractile. Hence you 
cannot walk as noiselessly as Kitty. Your claws are better fitted 
for digging and holding. 

Your senses of sight, hearing and smell are very perfect, but 
your sense of taste is not well developed. If you are hungry, you 
will eat things which are not good at all. You can live a long 
time without food or drink. You have relations in all countries. 
Wherever there is a man, the dog is his best friend. You love 
people much better than the place where you live; but I am 
afraid, dear, you dislike cats. You turn round many times be- 
fore you lie down. Can you tell me why? You prick up your 
ears, and bark at the least noise; and I am sure there never was 
euch a brave and faithful dog as you are, my own Lioness. 

Helen Keller. 



17(5 LN THE child's AVORLD. 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Origin of Species, __.... Darwin 

Natural History, - - - - - - J. G. Wood 

Rab and his Friends, . - . - . John Brown, M. D. 

A Dog of Flanders, --.--.. Ouida 

To Flush, my Dog, - . . . . Mrs. Broiuning 

Lewellyn and his Dog, ------ i2. Snuthey 

Scragg's Mission, - - - - - - C. E. lioioen 

Traj', - - - - - - - - R. Browning 

Song, " Old Dog Tray," 

Elegy on a Mad Dog, ------ Goldsmith 

Dog Stories, - - " St. Nicholas," November, 1SS6, March, 1881 

Famous Pets ("Wide Awake," December, 1886), - Eleanor Lewis 

The Dog and the Water Lily, i 

On a Spaniel called Beau, > - . - - Cowper 

Beau's Heply, ) 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 
Brave Bobby, - . . _ . Monroe''s Third Reader 



STORIES. 

HOW FRISK CAME HOME. 

One of my friends had more dogs than she knew what to do 
with; so she thought, "'I will give one of my dogs to my aunt 
in Troy, for I think she will like to have such a nice black-and- 
white dog as Frisk.'' 

So Frisk went to his new home, twenty miles off. 

But Frisk did not like his new home so well as his old one. 
In his old home he was a great pet; but, in his new home, no 
one did care much for Frisk; and they put a chain on his neck, 
and tied him up in the yard. 

So Frisk sat in the yard, and tried to get rid of his chain. 
But this he could not do. Then he was quite sad; and he 



IN THE CHILP'S WORLD. , 177 

thought, "Oh! if I could hut get back to my old home — if I 
could but get back to my old friends once more! " 

But Frisk did not know the way back to his old home; for, 
when they sent him to his new home, they had put him in a bag, 
and they had tied up the top of the bag, so that Frisk might not 
see the way they took him. So Frisk was sad because he was 
tied by a chain, and because he did not know the way back to 
his old home. 

But it is said, "Where there is a will, there is a way;" and so 
Frisk found it, as you shall learn. 

One day, when the man took Frisk oiit in the road for a run. 
Frisk thought to himself, "This man does not like me much, 
for he will chain me up if I let him take me back to my new 
home. So I will take a run all by myself, and not with the man."" 

And then Frisk ran under a bush, and sat there till the man 
was far off; and when the man turned round and did not see 
Frisk at his heels, the man called out, "Frisk! Frisk! Here, 
sir, here! Good dog! Here, Frisk! Frisk! Frisk!"' 

" No; I will not come; I will stay here and hide/' thought 
Frisk. "You may call me good dog, but I will not come. I try 
to be a good dog, and yet you chain me up." 

Then the man thought he should find Frisk at home; but, 
when the man got home, no Frisk was to be seen. The night 
came, and still no Frisk was to be seen. 

" I think Frisk must be dead," said the man. 

"But was Frisk dead?" 

Wait, and you shall hear. A whole week went by, and noth- 
ing was seen or heard of poor Frisk. 

But one day when my friend, with whom Frisk had first lived, 
went out with her children, Mary and Edgar, to walk, they saw, 
a short way from the house, a poor, thin, black-and-white dog 
by the roadside. 

He was quite lame, for his feet had been cut with sharp stones, 
and his hair was red with blood. 

Then all at once Edgar cried out: "0, mother! look! look! 
See if that is not our own poor Frisk come back to his old 
home!" 

" So it is our own poor Frisk," said my friend. " But Imw 



178 IN THE child's WORLD. 



could he have found his way back twenty miles, all the way from 
Troy to this place? For he was tied up in a bag when we sent 
him off. Poor Frisk! How thin and ill you look! '^ 

Then Edgar went up to Frisk, and the poor clog did not well 
know what to do, so glad he Avas to see the little boy. And my 
friend went up, and Mary went up, and they all patted Frisk on 
the head. 

Then they took Frisk home, and gave him nice milk and good 
meat, for he had not had food for whole days. He was glad to 
be fed, but he was still more glad to be in his old home, and to 
see my friend and her children once more. 

— "Nursery Stories.'" 



CLEVERNESS OF A SHEEP DOG. 

Some years ago, there was a terrific snowstorm in Scotland. 
The snow lay in great drifts many feet deep. 

The farmers Avere very anxious about their sheep, for there 
were hundreds of them unsheltered on the hills at the time. In 
one farm, no fewer than three hundred were missing, and the 
farmer with his men and a faithful sheep dog, named Rough, 
started to search for them. 

When they reached the fields, nothing was to be seen but great 
masses and drifts of snow, several feet thick, under which the 
poor sheep were buried. The men tried to penetrate the snow in 
order to got at the missing animals; but their labor was almost 
in vain, for it was only by the merest chance that they came 
across a sheep. 

The snow was still falling fast when Rough came to the rescue. 
He understood what was to be done, and, running quickly over 
the snow, with short, sharp barks, he dug with his paws little 
holes in various places. 

The men went to work beneath these marks, and under each 
they found a sheep! Thus they worked hard all night. Rough 
showing where the sheep were buried and the men digging them 
out, and most of the sheep were saved. 




179 



180 IX THli CHILD S WOKLL. 

The farmer was very tliankful to his clever dog and told his 
friends that had it not been for Rough he would have lost every 
one of his sheep that night. As it M^as, they hud suffered but 
little, and, with careful attention, soon recovered. 

—"Little Folks." 

Cassell tfc Co. 



THE DOG AND THE KITTEN. 

A schoolmaster had a small dog which became much attached 
to a kitten. They were in the habit of associating together be- 
fore the kitchen fire, sometimes sleeping and sometimes playing. 
One day they were enjoying a comfortable nap, when the kettle 
boiled over and scalded the dog, who ran away howling piteously. 
He had not gone very far, however, before he recollected his 
companion; he returned immediately, took up the kitten in his 
mouth, and carried it to a place of safety. 

Selected. 



A TRUE STORY OF A DOG. 

The following anecdote, which is perfectly well known in the 
town in which the circumstances occurred, places the intelligence, 
kind feeling, and noble disposition of the dog in a strong light, 
and is quite equal to what has been recorded of the elephant under 
nearly similar circumstances. A grocer in Worcester, England, 
had a powerful Newfoundland dog, which was reposing on the 
step of his door, when a sort of brewer's sledge Avas going rapidly 
down the hill leading to the bridge. Just as the sledge was pass- 
ing the house, a little boy in crossing the street fell down in the 
way of the sledge, and would have been killed, had not the dog 
seen the danger, and, rushing forward, seized the child in his 
mouth just in time to save his life, and deposited him on the foot- 
way uninjured. 

Selected. 



THE COBBLER. 



To THE Teacher: — 

" Carlyle used to rhapsodize about the importance of realizing the 
wonder that surrounds our daily life, and he himself, if he were going to 
portray an object, inveterately sought a point of view from which he could 
contemplate it in a kind of surprise." 

This is a wise course for us to pursue when we feel ourselves in danger 
of regarding anything as commonplace or uninteresting; though it seems 
to me that kindergartners or any others who live close to child life catch 
flashes of the " wonderlight " that invests all things for these new denizens 
of our familiar world, and thus often discover beauty and marvel unnoticed 
before. 

Beauty and marvel are high words to apply to so common a thing as 
a shoe, but study its whole history for your children's sake and then 
with your children, and you will not reject marvel, at least. 

The process which converts the animal skin into leather is long and 
varied. I have only copied one little note referring to the tanning 
proper; that is, the long soaking in a solution of oak bark and water, 
made stronger from day to,day. 

" The change in the nature of the skin is brought about by the action 
of the tannin of the oak bark on the gelatine of the skin, and so causing 
all traces of the animal substance to disappear. In proportion as this 
change is thoroughly or only partially effected, is the quality of the 
leather." 



THE TALK. 

(In an old reading book there was a story of a little boy whose 
clothes suddenly began talking to him and relating in turn their 
several histories. 

His jacket announced that it had once been white wool on a 
sheep's back; the brass buttons told of dark mines and hot fur- 
nace fires, and his boots added their tale of wonder. 

Some such story as this would make an interesting beginning 



162 IN THE guild's world. 

to the talk upon the shoemaker. For use throughout the talk 
have a shoe, some bits of leather, sole leather and the thinner 
kinds for the uppers, as well as a picture of the cow.) 

Don't you think it would be very funny if your clothes should 
begin to talk to you? What did the little boy's jacket say? If 
Leo's jacket spoke would it say it came from the sheep's back, 
too? And Amy's dress? Yes. But Mary's apron would tell a 
different story. That feels smooth when we touch it, but Leo's 
jacket and Amy's dress have a rough, woolly feeling like the 
worsted balls and the worsted we sew with, so we know that they 
are made from the wool that the sheep gave us. 

How would you like to have this shoe tell you its story? Let 
us listen! 

No, it does not say a word, so I shall have to speak for it. 

First I will show you a picture of an old friend, a good, useful 
animal. 

What does the cow give us? (Children name such products 
as they became familiar with through the lesson on the cow. 

Teacher then shows them the sole of the shoe and the piece of 
sole leather.) Does this leather look like the skin of the cow? 
No; the hair had to be all taken off and the skin had to be 
cleaned; then it had to be soaked — sometimes a month, some- 
times a whole year — and then dried before it was like this. 
Still, it is a piece of the cow's skin, so we must thank the cow 
for the good thick leather for the soles of our boots. 

But if Rosie's shoe or Tommy's shoe were talking, it would 
say: '' I am not all made .of the thick cow-skin." And we can 
see how mucli thinner the upper part is than the sole, can we 
not? (Let the children compare the thinner pieces of leather 
with their own shoes.) Men have boots of cowhide, but it is 
very thick and stiff. This thinner leather is better for ours, and 
what do you suppose it is made of? Some of calfskin, some of 
goatskin, and this very soft, thin leather of the skin of a kid, or 
young goat. So we must thank these animals, as well as the 
cow, for the leather out of which our boots and shoes are made, 
must we not? 

Do you think there is any one else to thank? Some one had 
to make the leather into shoes; who was that? 



IN THE CHILD'S WOKLD. 



183 



(Kecite the words of " The Cobbler," explaining the use of the 
awl, the last, the waxed ends, pegs, lapstone, hammer, etc. 
Have the children recall the other workers they have learned of 
or noticed.) 

Suppose no one worked, what would happen? 




TEACHER'S READING. 



Sir Gibbie, ..-.-- 

Only an Incident (" The New England Magazine," 
December, 1891), ----- 

The Goloshes of Fortune. ) 

The Red Shoes, ) ' 

Blessed be Drudgery, - - - - - 

Hannah Binding Shoes, . . - . 

Baby's Shoes, ------ 

The Shoemakers, ) _ 

Cobbler Keezar's Vision, ( 

Urania. A Rhymed Lesson, - - - - 

Much Coin, Much Care. . - . - 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

Rosamond and the Purple Jar, - . . - Edgeworth 

The Elves and the Shoemaker, - . - - Folk Story 

Gutta Percha Willie, ----- George MacDonald 
Leather (•• Kindergarten Stories and Morning Talks"), N. E. Wiltse 



George MacDonald 

Herbert D. Ward 

Hans Chr. Andersen 

W. C. Gannett 
Lucy Larcom 
W. C. Bennett 

Whittier 

- O. W. Holmes 

- Mrs. Jameson 



184 IN" THE child's WORLD. 



STORIES. 

GOODY TWO SHOES. 

A queer name for a little girl, to be sure, but it was no wonder 
tbat people called her ''Goody Two Shoes," as you shall soon 
hear. 

Her real name was Marger}^ and her brother's name was 
Tommy; and the two poor little things had no kind father to 
work and earn money to buy food and clothes for them, and no 
mother "good and dear" to take care of them. So they wan- 
dered about, always together, hand in hand, poor and ragged 
and lonely, and often tired and hungry. 

The people in the village used to give them something to eat, 
and the children often found berries in the woods and along the 
roadside. Every night, when the svin set and it began to grow 
dark. Tommy and Margery would walk up to some farmhouse 
and say to the farmer or his wife: " If you jilease, may we sleep 
in your barn to-night?" 

" Yes, indeed, and very welcome," the farmer would say; and 
then the two children would run to the barn and make them- 
selves a cosy, warm nest in the hay and be as happy as two little 
birds. 

But there are so many kind people in the world that children 
are not long left to wander about without a home, as Tomzny 
and Margery had been doing; and it happened that a kind 
gentleman who saw them trotting about together one da}^ felt 
very sorry for them. 

He saw Margery's fat little feet all scratched with walking 
barefoot over stones and stubble. " I can cure that,'' he said to 
himself; and he took the children to the cobbler's and said: 
" Good Mr. Cobbler, here is work for you. Will you do it?" 

"That I will, and gladly," answered the cobbler. So he 
measured Margery's foot, that he might know just how large to 
make the shoes, and set to work immediately. 

He cut two pieces of leather from a large, thick piece which 
he had, and shaped them for the soles. And he cut the uppers 




The Cobbler. 



185 



186 IN" THE child's WORLD. 

from the thin leather; and busy enough he was then, boring 
holes with his '" nice little awl,"" and ''putting his waxed ends 
through and through" as he stitched away, sewing the leather 
together for Margery's shoes. But while the cobbler was working 
away, the kind gentleman who had told him to make the shoes 
had been making some more kind plans. 

" Tommy," said he, " I will take you with me when I go back 
to my ship, and you shall learn to be a sailor;" and good Mrs. 
Smith said: ''Surely, then, little Margery shall live with me." 

So it was settled; the only sad thing being that Tommy and 
Margery had to be separated. They cried and kissed- each other 
many times when the day came for Tommy to go away. After 
he had gone, little Margery went one day and looked in at the 
cobbler's window. 

There he sat with a big flat stone on his lap and a hammer in 
his hand, and what was he doing but rap-tap-tapping away, put- 
ting the pegs into Margery^s shoes and fastening the uppers and 
soles together. You may be sure it was not long after that be- 
fore the shoes were finished: and a good thing it was, too, for 
they say that poor little Margery was so very lonely without her 
brother that she might have cried herself sick but for the new 
shoes that were brought home to her. 

Dear me! if you could but have seen how pleased she was! 
She had had to go barefoot a long time, you must remember, and 
her little feet had often been cold and scratched and hurt. 
Besides, the new shoes were so shiny and black, and creaked a 
little when Margery walked. Yes, indeed, it was delightful 
altogether. 

Margery showed them to Mrs. Smith as soon as ever the cob- 
bler had put them on for her. 

" Two shoes, ma'ami Two shoes!" said the happy little crea- 
ture over and over again. I suppose she could scarcely remem- 
ber having had two shoes before, because she had been barefoot 
so long; and before that she had gone about with only one shoe on 
for a long time! The other shoe had been lost when she and 
Tommy first began their wanderings. 

At any rate, little Margery seemed overjoyed at having two 
new shoes at once, and ran about first to one friend in the village 



IN THE CHILI-'S WORLD. 187 



and then to another, always putting out her feet and saying: 
" Two shoes! See, two shoes! " 

Everybody was glad to see the little girl so joyful, and they 
used to smile at one another in a happy way and say: ''Have 
you seen little Two Shoes? " or, " There goes Goody Two Shoes, 
bless her heart!" till finally people scarcely ever remembered 
to call her Margery. 

So now I have told you, as I said I would, how a little girl 
came to. have such a queer name as "Goody Two Shoes;" and, 
if you like, you shall hear more about her another time, for she 
was a little dear and no mistake, and did many things well worth 
your hearing about. 

Retold by Emilie Poulssox. 



SEEING SHOES MADE. 

Now and then I take the children of my kindergarten to see 
the actual doing of work which we represent in our play. 

One day we went to see shoes made. There were several peo- 
ple working in a large room and each one was doing something 
different. One man was cutting out the soles of shoes; another 
the uppers, as they call the leather which covers the upper part 
of the foot. As soon as these were cut they were put into water 
to soak so as to soften the leather. 

Another man was fastening an inner sole to a last, or wooden 
foot, by means of pegs which he was driving in with his shoe- 
maker's hammer. This hammer has one end "like our roller ' 
(the cylinder of the second gift), as the children said, "only the 
edge is rounded.^' 

" Why do you have a rounded edge to your hammer?" asked 
Jack of the man. 

"If it were not rounded it might damage the leather, and 
even make holes in it when I hammer hard," said the man. 

" You pound with the roller end of the hammer," said Nellie, 
"but what do you do with the flat end?" 

" Look and see," said the man. 

" Oh! you rub the leather with that, don't you? Why?" 



188 IX THE child's world. 

•' To m;ike it softer. If we did not soften the leather it would 
hurt people's feet." 

" What do you do next?" said Mary. 

" That is all /do; but if you will go over there (pointing to 
another part of the room) you will see what is done next." 

So we all went where the man had pointed, and saw another 
man stretching the uppers over a last and trimming them until 
they fitted exactly. When this was done he handed the uppers 
to a girl who sewed them together with a sewing machine. Then 
they were lined, and the stiffening was put into the heel. Then 
a man stretched the uppers over a last again, and fastened them 
to the inner sole which had been nailed upon it; after which the 
outer sole was laid on. The next thing that was done amused 
the children greatly. The man filled his mouth with wooden 
pegs! Then, picking up his hammer, he seized a peg from his 
mouth, placed it quickly where the sole Joined the upper, and 
drove it swiftly in with his hammer; took another peg and drove 
that in in the same way; then another and another, as fast as he 
could make his hands go. 

"We should have to play 'cobbler' a long time before we 
could make our fingers fly like that!" said one of the children. 

Then we went to examine the sewing machines by which the 
shoes were bound, and also the grummet machine which puts in 
the grummets, (those rings through which the shoestrings are 
laced). The children thought the grummet machine looked 
somewhat like the machinery of the oil mill in Froebel's " Mother 
Play Book." 

Some of the shoes made at this factory were buttoned instead 
of laced. The buttonholes are made in that extra piece which 
folds over on one side, then the piece is stitched on, and the 
buttons sewed in place. 

There were several other things done before the shoes were 

ready for sale, but they cannot all be talked of now. When we 

went back to the kindergarten we had a fine time playing 

" Cobbler," which, at the children's request, was followed by the 

' Grummet Machine Play," which we originated for the occasion. 

Josephine Jarvis. 
Cobden, III. 



IN THE child's WORLD. 189 



*THE COBBLER AND THE CHILDREN. 

A great many years ago a cobbler lived in a large city on the 
other side of the ocean. He was very fond of children, and was 
sorry for those poor little children who had no "play-place" but 
the street, and no one to take care of them all day. The fathers 
Avere at work, and the mothers too, as they were so very poor, 
had to be away all day washing or cleaning house, or doing other 
work, so they conld not do much for their children. This cob- 
bler thought that if he could persuade the children to come to 
his shop, they would have a better time and would at least learn 
more than they could by playing in the street. He began witli 
one child. One day when a little boy, whom we will call John- 
nie, came to his shop with a pair of boots that needed patching, 
the cobbler said: "Johnnie, suppose you come in to-morrow 
and see me mend these boots. Then you will be ready to take 
them home when they are done." 

" Yes, I will," said Johnnie. 

He came quite early the next day, but the cobbler was in his 
shop still earlier and had put some leather to soak in water so as 
to make it softer than it would otherwise be. He meant to make 
the patch of this leather. When Johnnie came the cobbler took 
the leather and pounded it with the cylinder end of the ham- 
mer, and rubbed it with the flat end till it was soft enough to 
use. 

'' Was the cylinder end of his hammer like our kindergarten 
cylinder?" 

Yes, but the edge was not sharp like the edge of yours; it was 
rounded so us not to cut the leather. Then the cobbler put the 
boot on a last, (that is a solid wooden shoe or boot, you know), 
and cut a paper pattern of the piece he wanted to put over the 
hole in the boot. Then he cut out the leather by the pattern 
and sewed it on the boot, with what do you suppose? 

"Needle and thread?" 

You are partly right. He used strong, black linen thread, but 
instead of a needle he used hog's bristles. He raveled one end 
of the thread, put a bristle into the middle of the loose ends, 
and then with shoemaker's wax like this (showing a piece) he 



* John Pounds, who lived in Portsmouth, England. 1766-1839. 



190 IN THE child's world. 

fastened the threads and the bristle together. He made holes 
in the patch and in the boot just as far apart as he wished for 
the length of his stitches, and sewed the patch on with his bris- 
tle and thread. Long before he had finished his work, which 
Johnnie watched with great interest, another boy had looked 
into the shop, and seeing Johnnie there, had come in; then 
another child came, and another, until there were as many as 
a dozen children looking on at the cobbler^s work. These chil- 
dren had such a good time that they came back again and again, 
and brought others with them, till the shop was full every 
day. After a while the cobbler began to teach them to read and 
to spell. He taught them to count, too. They counted his 
pieces of leather and his awls and pegs and other things. Some 
of the boys learned to mend shoes themselves, so that when they 
grew up they could be cobblers and earn their own living in that 
way. The children learned other things from the good man, 
and so, because this poor cobbler loved children so much, and 
did what he could for them, many who might otherwise have 
had no teaching at all, grew up to be good and useful men and 
women. 

Josephine Jakvis. 

Cobden, III. 



ST. VALENTINE'S DAY. 



To THE Teacher: — 




Though a less important red-letter day 
than the others which we celehrate in the 
kindergarten, there is good reason for taking 
notice of Valentine's Day. We can show 
the children how to put a loving, friendly 
message into the gay missives so attractive 
to children's eyes; and how to have all the 
pleasures of the pretty old customs without 
the use of the coarse and hideous •'comic" 
valentine. 

The disputes concerning the origin of the 
day's observance need not trouble us. The 
story of the good old St. Valentine, who was 
so distinguished for love and charity, is as 
probable as any, and is the most suitable 
for children. 



STORIES. 



PHILIP'S VALENTINES. 

In the month of January, in the year of eighty-eight, 

Little Master Philip Urbis had been so unfortunate 

As to have the mumps and measles both, besides the whooping cough, 

So away to get the country air his mother packed him off. 

'T was in vain his little bi'others both declared it was too bad. 

That already more than one boy's share of fun had Philip liatl; 

They had only had the mumps, and so it surely wasn't fair 

That with Philip's other extras he should have the couTitry air. 

But their mother took no heed of any hints or discontent, 

And, in spite of all their grumbling, to the country Philip went. 

In the month of February, in the year of eighty-eight, 
Little Philip for the fourteenth day could scarcely bear to wait; 
For he dearly loved the valentines that come upon that day, 
With their wonders of lace paper and their pictures gilt and gay. 
He had saved his pocket money, and the whole he hoped to spend 



192 IN THE child's WORLD. 

In valentines for those at home, each schoolmate and each friend. 
And his Auntie said, "Yes, Philip, we '11 have (jreut fun, you and I, 
When we drive to Danvers Center, all the valentines to buy.'' 
And she secretly expected to get some for Philip then, 
But we know what oft befalls the best-laid plans of mice and men. 

On the tenth of February, in the year of eighty-eight. 

There set in a dismal snowstorm that seemed most unfortunate; 

For in such a blinding, drifting way tne snow kept coming down, 

As to make it quite impossible for Phil to go to town. 

The eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth, and the longed-for fourteenth came, 

And still the country roads were blocked with snowdrifts just the same. 

And not a single valentine had Phil to send away, 

And not a one could he expect upon this stormy day. 

So it seemed that snowy morning as if not a ray of joy 

Could be coaxed to shine upon the disappointed little boy. 

But his Auntie put her wits to work to somehow celebrate 

On this fourteenth day of February, eighteen eighty-eight. 

Now, as Philip rose at seven, Auntie had to rise at six, 

So that Philip should not catch her at her little secret tricks; 

But that hour sped so swiftly that her work was scarcely done. 

When there came a shout from Philip's room: "O Auntie dear, whatfun! 

I was just about disgusted when I saw the snow and sleet. 

But Pve found a little letter pinned right here upon my sheet. 

It's directed to me. Auntie, so it surely must be mine. 

And, although it's only ' pen and ink,' it's like a valentine," 

" Philip my darling, Philip my dear, 
Valentine's Day is surely here; 
And yet I hope you will not repine. 
Although you don't get any valentine; 
For, Philip my darling, Philip my dear, 
I love you every day of the year." 

Just as Philip finished reading and was getting out of bed, 

A letter flew in at the door and hit him on the head. 

And his Auntie heard him laughing as he picked it up and read: — 

" The snow may fall, the sun may shine, 
Still I'm your loving valentine; 
But do not waste your time in guessing 
Who I may be, but go on dressing; 
For in this wild and wintry storm 
My love alone can't keep you warm." 

"Well," said Auntie from the stairway, "hope you'll take that good 

advice! " 
" O, yes! " answered Philip gaily, "I '11 be ready in a trice," 




Philip's First Vat entine. 



193 



194 i>f THE child's world. 



And he soon was at the table, bright and happy as could be, 
Where the oatmeal porridge waited, steaming most invitingly. 
"I've two valentines already— do you s'pose I'll get some more?" 
And his napkin then unfolding, something dropped upon the floor. 
" Yes! it is! it is another, though a very little one; 
Now I '11 read it to you. Auntie; don't you think they 're jolly fun?' 

" Porridge hot, 
Porridge cold; 
My love for you 
Cannot be told." 

So read Philip from his valentine, and then his porridge ate, 

And Auntie served the breakfast soon and passed to Phil his plate; 

But no sooner did he take it than he shrieked out with delight. 

For beneath his baked potato was a little paper, white. 

And he knew it was a valentine, it looked so like the rest, 

So he quickly tore it open and then read the rhyme with zest: — 

*' When Philip does his breakfast eat. 
Of baked potato and minced meat, 
Oh ! may his heart to me incline. 
For I 'm his loving valentine." 

Little Philip's expectations now were raised up very high. 

And his eyes were roving everywhere a valentine to spy; 

Even looking in the milk pitcher and in the sugar bowl; 

And breaking open carefully his nice, hot breakfast roll. 

But there was no use in lookiug, for he found no tell-tale signs 

Of the whereabouts of any more of those queer valentines; 

Till a little after breakfast, Auntie said: " Now, Philip dear, 

We must not forget your medicine, so bring the bottle hei-e." 

Now of course Phil hated dosing, so he started with a frown, 

But it quickly changed to laughter as he took the bottle down; 

For upon the cork was fastened something which he knew must be 

Another of those valentines which he so liked to see. 

And upon it neatly written, this the legend that it bore, 

And thougli Phil had liked the others, he liked this one even more: 

" Oh! lake the ' iron, beef and wine,' 
But sweeten well this dose of thine 
With loving thoughts of 

Valentixe " 

That he took his spoonful smilingly I scarcely need to say; 
Then to look at the thermometer outside he rushed away; 
-Vnd in half a second Auntie heard him give another gleeful shout. 
For behold ! from the thermometer a valentine peeped out! 



IN THE child's WORLD. 195 

"A funny place indeed for one," both Phil and Auntie said; 
Then opening the frosty note, this bit of I'hyme they read: — 

" Thernnometers may go to zero, 
But I will bear it like a hero, 
If little Phil will not decline 
To take me for his valentine." 

Now the storm had ceased, and though it was not yet a pleasant day. 

Auntie said that Phil might bundle up and go out doors to play. 

So he put his little valentines all carefully aside, 

Eeading all the verses once again with fresh delight and pride. 

Disappointment was forgotten and he seemed to have no thought 

Of the gorgeous fancy valentines the "fourteenth" should have brought. 

"Arctics will be better, Philip, than your riibher boots, I know, 

For this storm of sleet has made a good firm crust upon the snow." 

"All right Auntie; come here arctics! Oh! where is that buttonhook? 

I declare! Another valentine ! It 's well I chanced to look 

In my arctics, though I didn't think a valentine was there; 

But I guess the safest way will be to look sharp everywhere." 

" Time flies, and with him bears away 
Our winter sports and frolics gay ; 
But all may go, I will not pine, 
If Phil will be my valentine." 

Phil put this one with the others and got ready then to go 
With his fur cap and big ulster, looking like an Esquimau 
Then he asked his Auntie if he might the old umbrella take, 
" For if the crust will bear, you see, I may an ice-boat make, 
Like the one I had the other day — oh! how my sled did go! 
Just like lightning on the pond, and so I Avant to try the snow." 
Now a twinkle came in Auntie's eyes as Philip asked her this, 
But she put a sober face on as she gave the boy a kiss, 
Telling him the old umbrella must be somewhere in the hall, 
And that he might take it if he wouldn't get a dreadful fall. 
So away went Philip with the big umbrella and his sled, 
And to watch him as he started, to the window Auntie sped. 
When Phil opened the umbrella, out fell something on the snow. 
And in spite of walls and distance, Auntie faintly heard his " 0/i.'" 
And he soon rushed in the house again with this new valentine, 
Keading it as though he thought it was particularly fine: — 

" I know a little fellow. 
Who takes a big umbrella, 
And he holds it for a sail 
Right before the wintry gale; 



196 IN THE child's WORLD. 

And it takes liim straight ahead 
As he sits upon his sled, 
And he skims across the ice 
In a twinkling — in a trice! 
Now who is it, do you say, 
Who behaves in such a way? 
'T is the boy who reads each line 
Of this wondrous valentine! " 

"Auntie, do you think the valentines will come like this all day?" 

Phil inquired, but his Auntie said she really could not say. 

" Well, if you tind any. Auntie, you will surely let me know," 

Then away again went Philip to his ice-boat and the snow, 

And his Avmtie, seated at her desk, took up her pen to write. 

Resigned to grinding out more rhymes — they gave Phil such delight; 

When suddenly, to her surprise, there broke upon her ear 

A merry, ringing, jingling sound that told a sleigh was near. 

She had scarcely reached the window to look out of it before 

The sound had ceased, and lo! the sleigh was at the very door. 

And the jolly, red-faced butcher called out in his friendly way; 

" Well, I guess you did n't calculate I 'd get around to-day; 

And I 've had a mighty job of it a-plonghing through the snow, 

For ijuttin' fust tracks in the road makes progress mighty slow. 

' But business must be 'tended to and folks must eat,' says I; 

And then I brought your mail up, too, as I w'as comin' by. 

Most of them is for that youngster, and if I can read the signs, 

I should say the little fellow has a lot of valentines." 

Auntie thanked the butcher heartily, and glad indeed was she 

So many fancy envelojjes, addressed to Phil, to see. 

Then when she had chosen what she wished from out the butcher's 

sleigh, 
And the jolly butcher once again had started on bis way, 
Auntie put away her writing, feeling very glad indeed 
That of home-made valentines there now should be no further need. 
As for Phil, it disappointed him a little bit to find 
That these other valentines were all the "ordinary" kind. 
And although he liked their splendor, still 't was with a fonder pride 
That he showed the little home-made ones that looked so plain beside. 
And a few weeks later when he went back home quite strong and well. 
And his little brothers asked him of his country life to tell, 
Oftener than other doings, he would all the fun relate, 
Qf-tfJ^fouiteenth day of February, eighteen eighty-eight. 
/^ Emilie Poulsson. 



WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY. 



To THE Teachek: — 

So many ways of beginning this talk offer 
themselves that it is difficult to choose into 
which link of the past we shall clasp this 
new one. Shall we look back to Thanks- 
giving Day and its bit of history? Shall we 
review the New Year Story and let Febru- 
ary's gift of George Washington's picture 
be the starting point? Or, shall we link our 
great man and his work with the humble 
workers we have spoken of heretofore? 
Approach it as we will, let us try through 
the week's talks, stories, lessons and plays, 
to draw a clear picture of Washington's 
impressive character. Let us tell those stories of his childhood, youth 
and manhood which will enable the children to see for themselves some of 
his strong and noble traits, instead of their merely memorizing the fact 
that George Washington was a good man from our asseverations. The 
impression upon their minds and hearts will thus be deeper and truer. 

One of my little pupils gave a very appreciative estimate of Washing- 
ton in answer to her little sister's question as to whether Washington 
was a king. " No," said Anna, thoughtfully, " he was not a king. He 
was a president; but I think he was a king in his heart." 




Aplos of 1779, 



THE TALK. 

A holiday is coming soon. You know Thanksgiving Day was 
a holiday, and Christmas Day, and New Year's Day; and now 
in February we shall have Washington's Birthday. 

The schools and a great many of the shops will be closed; the 
fathers will not go to their work that day; flags will be out, and 
guns will be fired, and bells rung, morning, noon and night. 

Not only in your city or town but everywhere in our land, 
Washington's Birthday will be a holiday. 



198 IX THK child's world. 

(Let the children name all the ])laces they can think of to help 
them get as much of an idea of the widespread observance 
of the day as is compatible with their scant geographical 
knowledge.) 

Who can find George Washington's j^icture? Who can tell 
anything about him? We will talk about him to-day, so that 
when his birthday comes, and you hear the guns and the bells, 
and see the j)retty flags flying, you will know what it is all about. 

(Teacher tell stories: — 

1. George and his hatchet, exemplifying truth. 

2. Wishing to be a sailor, showing his unselfish love for his 
mother. 

3. The young surveyor, showing faithfulness in work — at les- 
sons and in surveying; (writing books, account books, etc., still 
to be seen). Speak of the difficulties of surveying — penetrating 
into the forests alone, sleeping on the ground, walking many, 
many miles, etc., — so that the children may see what bravery, 
strength and endurance were demanded. 

4. Washington and the corporal. The rebuke to the arrogant 
little corporal may not be appreciated, but Washington's ready 
helpfulness certainly will.) 

What kind of a little boy was George Washington ? A boy who 
told the truth. What kind of a big boy? Loving and obedient; 
he gave up what he wanted to do to please his mother. What 
kind of a man? A hard worker, ready to help, strong, brave, 
wise and true. 

(Questioning the children will help them deduce the qualities 
displayed in the stories.) 

It was long ago that George Washington lived, and the people 
in this land were having a great deal of trouble. The king — 
who ruled this country, too, then, although he lived over the 
sea — was very unkind and unfair to the American people, and 
made them very unhappy. 

" What shall we do?" said they. *' We must find some way 
to stop all this. We want somebody to manage our Soldiers and 
not let the king treat us so unfairly. Where shall we find the 
right kind of a man?" 

" Here he is! Here he isl" s;iid those who knew Washington. 



200 IN THE child's WORLD. 

And surely he was just the right kind of a man, because he was 
strong and brave and wise and true. 

So Washington was chosen to be the Commander-in-chief of 
the army, and every one called him General Washington. 

After a while, when the people were free from the king, they 
decided to have a President. 

Do you know whom they would be likely to choose? Yes, 
indeed — George Washington. How glad his mother must have 
been to see her son so useful and so honored! 

Who is the President now? 

But George Washington was the first President. 

People call him "the Father of his Country." Do you see 
why that is a good name for him? 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Washington and his Country, ... Irving and Fiske 

Eules of Conduct, Diary, etc. (Riverside Literature Series, No. 24.) 
Life of Washington ("St. Nicholas)", . - . H. Scudder 

Birtliday of Washington, . - . . . Rufus Choate 

Apostrophe to Washington, -----!>. Webster 

Ode to Wasliington, --...--. Lowell 
Ode on Washington's Birthday, - - - - O. W. Holmes 

The Spy, ------ J. Fenimore Cooper 

The Virginians, ------ Thackeray 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

Little George Washington, | . .. ^, g „ „ 
Great George Washington, S ^ 



THE BLACKSMITH. 

To THE Teachek: — 

In the explanation of the play, " The Charcoal Burner's Hut," (Mutter 
und Kose-Lieder), Frojbel declares his aim to be to teach the child to 
respect the hand; first, the child's own hand in its power of representa- 
tion, and second, to "also respect and honor not only a man who, by his 
hand, gives us some bread and satisfies our body's need for food and 
other thino^s, but a man who is active by the work of his hands in any 
business, however lowly, whereby he not only keeps off injury and dan- 
ger from individuals as well as from the whole community, but even 
directly furthers the good of mankind." 

This intent — the intent to inculcate respect for the hand and its work 
— underlies all the trade songs and games, and can be as well carried out 
through the Blacksmith as through the Charcoal Burner. We need not 
always cling to the particular trades which Froebel chose, provided we 
do not lose the kernel of truth which is enveloped by them. 

Before talking upon the Blacksmith, I pray you go and visit a black- 
smith shop, if possible, in order to have your own impression fresh 
and vivid. 



THE TALK. 

(After singing " The Cobbler Song," tell the children there is 
another man who makes shoes besides the cobbler.) The shoe- 
maker that I am thinking of makes shoes without any leather. 
He uses a hammer and nails, but no waxed ends or pegs. 

How many shoes does your mamma buy from the shoemaker 
when she gets new shoes for you? Two shoes — a pair. This 
other shoemaker has to make four shoes/ or two pairs, for each 
customer that comes to him. Can you guess what sort of cus- 
tomers these are? They must have four feet, mustn't they? 

And who is the horse's shoemaker? Have any of the children 
been to a blacksmith's shop, or looked in at the door? I wish 



202 IN THE child's WORLD. 

3'ou could all look in! What would you see? (Describe shop 
and tools, etc.) Did you ever notice the blacksmith's apron? 
It is made of leather and is often cut up through the middle so 
that he can take the horse's front foot between the two parts. 
Some-times it is fringed at the bottom. 

The blacksmith takes one of the new shoes, tries it on the 
horse, and finds out just where it is not of the right shape or of 
the right size. Then he takes the shoe in his tongs and holds it 
in the fire, and with his other hand he works the bellows. Do 
you know what the bellows are for? They are to blow more air 
under the fire, so as to make the fire very, very hot. Sometimes 
the blacksmith covers the shoe with the fire. Does the shoe 
burn? No. Why not? Because it is made of iron. It was 
hard and black and cold when he put it intQ the fire; but when 
he takes it out it is very different. The fire has made it hot and 
soft and red; oh! so red and glowing! It looks like a horseshoe 
made of fire as he lays it on the anvil. How quickly he works 
now! And how the sparks fly and the anvil rings as he hammers 
the red-hot shoe, shaping it to fit the foot of the waiting horse. 
Do you know "why he must work so quickly? If the iron cools 
it will be hard again. If we should hammer on this hard, black, 
cold liorseshoe that we have, could we change its shape? 

When the blacksmith has finished the shoe, he dips it into a 
barrel of cold water. AVhy? The next thing is to nail the shoe 
on the horse's foot. It seems as if this would hurt the horse 
very much, but the hard hoof has no feeling in it, and if the 
blacksmith puts the nails in the right place he will not hurt the 
horse at all. If the blacksmith does not know how to put the 
shoe on, or is not careful, he may hammer the nails through the 
horse's hoof so as to hit the bone; and that would make the poor 
horse lame. So the blacksmith, as well as the cobbler and the 
carpenter and the cooper, needs to be a good, careful worker. 

(Speak of the difference between summer and winter horse- 
glioes — the necessity of calks on the latter to keep the horses 
from slipping.) * 




The Blacksmith 



•■ZO-i: IN THE child's AVORLD. 

RIDDLE. 

" What shoemaker makes shoes without leather, 
With all the four elements put together? 
Fire and water, earth and air. 
Every customer has two pair." 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Life of Elihu Burritt, •' The Learned Blacksmith." 

Industrial Biography, .... - fi. Smiles 

Tubal Cain. ------- Ch. Mackay 

The Song of the Forj;e. (" Watson's Independent Fifth Reader.") 

The Village Blacksmith, ----- Lon-jfelloio 

The Ballad of the Blacksmith's Sons (" St. Nicholas," 

December, 18S7), - - - - M. E. Wilkins 

Wayland Smith (" Kenilworth"), - - - Scott 

Thor's Hammer (Norse Studies), - - - - H. W. Mnbie 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

Who Slit the Blacksmith's Apron? (" Wide Awake," 

November, 1.^88), ----- Prof. Otis T. MciRon 
Gutta Percha Willie, ----.: George MacDonald 



IN THE child's WORLD. 



205 



STORIES. 




NAHUM PRIWCE. 

This is the story of 
Nahum Prince, and the 
tears are in my eyes now 
as I tiiink of him. He 
must have lived a Imn- 
dred or more years ago, 
and he died, I do not 
know when. He was 
lame. Something had 
mashed his foot so that 
he could hardly walk. 

It was at the time of 
the fighting with Bur- 
goyne, and General Lincoln Avas at the front, and was ordering 
out every man from the New Hampshire grants and western New 
Hampshire. And all the regular companies of troops had been 
marched out. Then there came the final call for all who could 
go, and all the old men and boys volunteered; and there was not 
a boy over thirteen years of age in the village that didn't go, 
except Nahum Prince. When they were getting ready to go he 
stood up, as well as he could, with an old Queen Anne's nrm on 
his shoulder. And the captain came along and saw him, and 
said: — 

" Nahum, yoic here!'' 
" Yes, I am here," said Nahum. 

Then the captain said: "Go home, Nahum; you know you 
don't belong here; you cannot walk a mile." 

So he called to the doctor, and the doctor said: "Nahum, it's 
no use; you must go home." 

Then they all marched off -without him. Rub-a-dub-dub, rub- 
a-dub-dub, went the drums; and every man and boy of them 
went off and left poor Nahum Prince alone. He had a good 
home, but he was very homesick all that night, and didn't sleep 



206 IN THE child's WORLD. 

much; and the next morning he said: " I shall die before night 
if I stay here all alone, the only boy in town; I must do some- 
thing." It was coming autumn. It was not late, but he knew 
he must do something; so he went down and split old Widow 
Corliss's wood for her, for he could split wood though he could 
not march. He had not been splitting wood more than an hour 
when four men on horseback came down the road and stopped. 
He could see them stand and talk. They all went off, and then 
one came back again and beckoned to Nahum; and when he 
came up, the man on horseback said: — 

" AYhere are all the men gone?" 

" They have all gone off to join the army," answered Nahum. 

''And isn't there any blacksmith in the town?" 

" No, there isn't a man or a boy in the town except me, and 
I wouldn't be here only I am so lame I cannot walk." 

" Do you mean to tell me that there is nobody here who can 
set a shoe?" 

" Why, I can set a shoe," said Nahum. 

" Then it is lucky you are left behind. Light up the forge, 
and set the shoe." 

And now comes the most interesting part of the story. Nahum 
lighted up the fire, blew the coals iiot, and set the shoe on the 
horse; and the horse and the rider went away, after the man had 
thanked Nahum; and Nahum finished splitting the widow's 
wood. And when the next week the boys came home, and told 
how Colonel Seth W^arner came up on his horse just in time, lead- 
ing the First Regiment, and took the prisoners and won the day, 
Nahum didn't say anything, but he knew that Colonel War- 
ner never would have been on that horse if he hadn't set that 
shoe. And it was Nahum Prince and Seth Warner that won the 
splendid victory which ended the Battle of Bennington. 

Edw. Everett Hale. 



VULCAN, THE MIGHTY SMITH. 

High above the fleecy clouds in the sky, the gods and goddesses 
used to live. A wide road stretched across the heavens — you 
may see it now on a clear night — and on each side of it stood the 



IN THE child's vvokld. 207 

great palaces of the gods. Most beautiful of all, with its great 
portico and smooth pillars, was the palace of Vulcan (Hephsestos). 
It was built of shining bronze, which flashed and gleamed in the 
sunlight 80 that it could be seen for miles around. Vulcan had 
built the palace for himself, for he was a wise and cunning 
workman with metals. 

Many were the wonderful things he made with his great anvil 
and hammer — suits of armor, shields and spears, silver cups, 
golden necklaces — all wonderful to behold. Once he made two 
dogs out of gold and silver, and so lifelike were they that they 
were set to guard the palace of a king! Perhaps Vulcan had 
learned to work so well at his forge because he could not go 
about as easily as the other gods. He had a crooked foot which 
made him limp as he walked, but no one remembered that who 
saw his broad shoulders bending over his forge, or his mighty 
arm raised to bring down the hammer ringing on the anvil. 

One day as Vulcan was working away at his bellows — very warm 
and very grimy from his toil — there came to him the beautiful 
goddess Thetis. The wife of Vulcan went out to meet her, led 
her in, and placed her upon a silver-studded seat. Then she 
called Vulcan to come since Thetis had need of him. Now Thetis 
had a brave and noble son — a great warrior, named Achilles — and 
she knew that he was soon to risk his life in battle. She had been 
greatly troubled on account of this, and also because she knew 
that Achilles had lost the armor he usually wore in the fight. As 
she was considering what could be done, she remembered having 
heard of wonderful armor, so strong that no man could pierce it 
— armor fit for a king — which only Vulcan could make. Achilles 
was not a king, but he was one of the bravest of men. Would 
Vulcan perhaps make such a suit of armor for him? Thetis 
hardly dared ask this of the mighty smith of the gods. At last, 
however, she had come to his palace, and now sat waiting to hear 
what answer he would give to her request. 

Vulcan, at the call of his wife, turned the bellows from the fire, 
and put away his tools in a silver chest. Then he washed the 
black dust from his face and hands, and, taking his staff, went 
limping in to the palace. He saw that Thetis was in trouble, and, 
sitting down beside her, he asked what it was. When Thetis had 



208 IN THE child's WORLD. 

told him, Vulcan bade her be of good courage, and said he would 
at once set to work to fashion the armor. He limped quickly 
back to his workshop, took his tools from the silver chest, turned 
the bellows toward the forge and threw strong bronze and gold 
and silver to heat in the fire. The bellows blew a mighty blast, 
and the flame leapt up like a living thing. When all was ready 
he took the pieces of hot metal from the fire with his tongs, and, 
laying them upon the anvil, shaped and hammered them with cun- 
ning hands, until at last there lay before him a finished piece of 
armor — a breast-plate brighter than the flame itself. He made, 
too, a helmet, massive and with a crest of gold, and other pieces 
to protect the warrior; but the most beautiful thing was a great 
shining shield, and truly this was marvelous to behold. Its shin- 
ing surface was graven with so many pictures that when you had 
seen all of them it was as if you had looked through a whole pic- 
ture-book! And so lifelike had Vulcan made everything appear, 
that the men seemed to walk about, — the sheep seemed to be crop- 
ping the grass, and the boys and girls with wreaths round their 
heads seemed to dance upon the meadow and to laugh as they 
ran races with each other. 

When all was done Vulcan took the whole, and laid it before 
the mother of Achilles. As the pieces clanged against each other, 
Thetis looked at them full of joy. Then Vulcan, taking up the 
shield said : " This is strong to protect the warrior who can use it, 
and I have made it to be beautiful also in the eyes of men. 
For as I wrought I remembered those days long ago when I was 
a child, lame and miserable, and kind Thetis gave me shelter, 
care and love. Therefore have I right gladly made strong the 
work, and wrought upon it pictures to delight the eye."" 

Vulcan made many famous things, but this was the best of them 
all. Long afterwards men loved to talk of the marvelous shield 
of Achilles which Vulcan had wrought to such beauty, his hand 
strengthened with skill by the exceeding gratitude of his h^art. 

F. H. 



THE MINER. 



To THE Teacher: — 

This seems a rather remote subject for many of our children; but let us 
try whether their imagination will not enable them to receive a picture of 
the miner and his surroundings. 

That the children may realize how many things the miner's work brings 
to them, the teacher should have as many as possible of the common 
objects which are made wholly or in part of substances obtained by the 
miner's toil— horse shoes, nails, scissors, weaving needles, silver and 
copper money, spoons, jewelry, etc. 

Also ask the children to notice things at home which were once hidden 
away in the earth and for which the miner has worked. 



THE TALK. 

Do you remember the shoemaker who makes shoes without 
leather? What does the blacksmith make shoes of? Iron. 

What is this made of? (Hold up a nail or other object made 
of iron.) How do you know it is made of iron? (Through this 
question gather descriptive items from the children. Iron is 
cold, black, heavy, strong; also soft and red when heated, and 
can be hammered into shape. Demonstrate the ringing sound 
which iron gives when dropped or struck.) 

Find things in the room which are made of iron. Name iron 
things which you have seen in the street; iron things at home. 
(Let the children include steel things, since steel is one of the 
three forms of iron — i.e., cast iron, wrought iron and steel.) 

Which of the carpenter's tools are made of iron? — the black- 
smith's? — the cooper's? — the cobbler's? 

Could we have carriages, wagons, locomotives, steamboats. 
etc., without iron? Is iron very useful, then? Do you think 
men would take much trouble to get it? 



210 IN THE child's WOKLD. 

Yes; they have to work very hard, for iron is found in rocks, 
often deep down in the earth. 

Men who work at getting iron or gold or silver or coal out of 
the earth are called miners. When a miner goes to his work in 
the morning he does not go to a big shop as many workmen do. 
His workshop is a mine, inside of a mountain. Sometimes he goes 
in at the side of the mountain, and walks or rides down a sloping 
path till he gets into the mine. Sometimes he goes to an open- 
ing in the ground called a shaft. Then he gets into a big basket 
or cage. Down, down, down it goes; so far down that the 
opening at the top is only a little spot of light. At last xie 
reaches the bottom and is in the mine. 

Here the ground has been dug away, and the rock cut away, 
so that there are paths in all directions, and sometimes even 
big rooms. 

But how dark it is I As black as night I How can the miner 
find his way? How can he see to work? He cannot carry a 
lamp in his hand, because he needs both hands to work with; 
so he has a little lamp fastened in the front of his cap. Isn't 
that a good plan? 

He walks along one of the paths, the lamp in his hat throwing 
its light a little ahead. When he gets to his place of work he 
takes his sharp pick and strikes at the rock, breaking off piece 
after piece of it. 

In this rock are bits and streaks of iron or gold or silver; or, 
if it is a coal mine, the pieces are solid coal instead of rock. 

All day the miner works in that strange, dark place, away 
under ground — no sunshine, no light but the little twinkling 
lights of the lamps that the other miners carry. At night he 
gets into the big iron basket again, and goes up, up, up, as if in 
an elevator, to the top of the shaft again, and steps out upon the 
ground and into the fresh air once more. 

How much he must enjoy his Sundays and holidays, when he 
can see the sunshine, and the sky, and all such beautiful things, 
instead, of heing in the black darkness of the mine. 




The Miner. 



211 



212 



IN THE CHILD S AVORLD. 



TEACHER'S READING. 



The History of a Piece of Coal (" Fairy land of Science "), Arabella Buckley 

Haworth's, ----- Frances Hodyson Burnett 

That Lass o' Lowrie's, - - - Frances Hod^json Burnett 

The Led Horse Claim, - . . - Mary Uallock Foote 

Bret Harte's Stories. 

Charles Egbert Craddock's Stories. 

Industrial Biography, - . - . . Samuel Smiles 

The Pine-Tree Shillinos, - - . . - N.Haxothorne 



FOR THE CHILDREN. 



The Blind Brother, 
The Golden Opportunity, 
The Pomegranate Seeds, 
The Golden Bread, 
The Golden Touch, 



Homer Greene 

Jean Inyelow 

N. Hawthorne 

Laboulaye 

N. Hawthorne 



The Tinsmith (" Kindergarten stories and Morning Talks "), S. E. Wiltse 



STORIES. 



SUGGESTIONS. 

The day after the talk upon "The Miner," I gave to the chil- 
dren of my kindergarten a story of a little boy who visited a 
mine with his father, in that way describing the mine through 




his experiences. In the review of the week I drew from the 
children their own experiences for a day, beginning with break- 
fast, which required tire made of coal, and stove made of iron; 



IN THE CHIL1>'S WORLD. 213 

the articles used at table, furks aud spoons, made of silvar; the 
dishes washed in dishpans, made of tin; things eaten, seasoned 
with salt; and all bought with money — gold and silver. 

All these things came from mines and were dug by miners. 

We sang songs about other busy men — carpenter, shoemaker, 
baker, blacksmith; and told what things they used which came 
from mines. 

A KiNDERGARTNER. 



THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 

Listen to the famous story 

Of King Midas, who of old 
Gifted was with wondrous magic, 

Turning all he touched to gold. 
Every thing he laid his hands on 

Underwent the same bright change, 
Till familiar things about him 

Had a golden glitter strange. 

Bedsteads, tables, chairs and curtains, 

Silken fabric, common wood. 
By his passing touch converted 

Each a lioldeu marvel stood! 
Ev'n the tr es within the garden 

Spread out shining boughs afar — 
And a merry dancing sunbeam 

Stiffened to a golden bar! 

Much King Midas gloated over 

All the dazzling splendor wrought; 
Well he loved the untold riches 

That his touch of magic brought: 
But his exultation ended 

And his pleasure turned to pain. 
For the trouble that it caused him 

Far out-weighed the golden gain. 

Tempting viands filled the table 
And the poor king's hunger pressed; 

But they turned to metal mouthfuls 
Far too solid to digest. 



214 IN THE child's WORLD. 



So it was with all about liini, 

Making Alidas almost wild — 
But his fury changed to heart-ache, 

When a touch transformed his child. 

Well he loved his little daughter — 

Wond'ous fair and good was she; 
And King Midas on her ringlets 

Laid his hand caressingly. 
Thoughtless of the fatal magic, 

But its power was still the same; 
For a lifeless, golden statue 

Instantly the child became. 

Starving, childless, yet more wretched 

Grew King Midas hour by hour. 
Till he loathed the shining treasure, 

And the gift of baneful power. 
All these glittering possessions 

Gladly, freely, would he give. 
If without this curse — though beggars — 

He and his dear child might live. 

So the gift was taken from him 

And the mischief it had wrought 
Quickly righted; and King Midas 

Did not miss the lesson taught, 
But lived happy ever after, 

Cured of all his greed for gold; 
And to wond'ring children's children 

Often this strange story told. 

Emilie Poulsson. 



COAL. 

* * * ^= Mother and Father and their friends have gone 
to see a huge furnace. The furnace is to make iron. The iron ore 
is found m the ground; but it cannot be used until it has been 
brought to the furnace and melted, and all the dirt taken out, and 
just the pure iron left. Then it is all ready to be ndanufactured 
into engines, stoves, kettles and many other things. 



IN THE child's WORLD. 2l5 



Coal is found in the ground, too. Many years ago, before people 
came to life on the earth, great trees and tall grasses and huge 
ferns and all the beautiful flowers covered the ground. When 
the leaves and the trees fell, the water and the soil covered them; 
and then more trees grew and fell also, and were buried under 
water and soil. After they had all been pressed together for many 
thousands of years the wood grew very hard, like rock, and then 
it was ready for people to burn. Can you see leaves and ferns 
and bark on the coal? Men go down into the ground and dig 
out the coal, and steam cars take it to the large cities, where it is 
sold to people to burn, to make them warm and happy when it is 
cold out of doors. 

Helex Kellek. 



WATER, I. 



To THE Teacher: 



One kindero;aitner told me of the enthusiastic interest her children 
took in this subject. She let them work out all the suogestions of the 
talk. They got snow from out of doors, melted it before the fire, boiled 
the water and condensed the steam on a slate held over the teakettle 
spout. 



THE TALK. 

USES OF WATER. 

(Let the children first tell the obvious and well-known uses of 
water; A. e., as a drink for all — animals and plants — and as a 
cleansing agent. Speak of the beauty and healthfulness of clean 
skin, clean clothes, etc.) 

FORMS OF WATER. 

AYhat does Jack Frost do to water? Freezes it — turns it into 
ice. Can it be changed to water again? How? If you melt 
snow, what does it become? What is snow made of, then? 
Where does the snow come from? (See talk on ''Winter" for 



V3S: 



formation of snow.) Jack Frost makes snow out of the rain- 
drops away up in the sky, and makes ice wherever he finds 
water on the earth. 

What does he decorate our windows with sometimes? Frost. 





IN THE child's WORLD. 217 

Do you know whiit the frost is made of? It is made of water, 
too, for the window is wet when the frost melts, as you may 
have seen for yourselves. 

Do ice and snow and frost all look alike? Do they look like 
water? Jack Frost is quite like a fairy, isn't he, changing water 
into all these different and beautiful forms? 

AVill ice or snow or frost melt if they are kept in the cold? 
What will melt them? Here is a funny little verse for you: — 

" Simple Simon made a snowball, 
And brought it in to roast; 
He put it by the kitchen fire 
And soon the ball was lost." 

What had happened to Simple Simon^s snowball? The heat 
of the fire had melted it. What melts the snow out of doors on 
a sunny, warm day? The heat of the sun. Jack Frost could 
change water into frost or snow or ice, but he could not change 
them into water again. Heat is the fairy to do that kind of 
work. And heat can make some wonderful fairy changes with 
water itself, too. Have you ever noticed steam coming out of 
the teakettle spout? If you have, you have seen what the fairy 
Heat has done to some of the water in the teakettle. Water 
usually goes in drops like this: (Dip the hand in water to show 
the drops which cling to the hand; also shake some off on the 
floor or table.) But when the fairy Heat takes hold of the water 
drops in the teakettle they are changed into this fine, thin steam 
which floats out of the teakettle spout. 

You would think steam to be very gentle, seeing it float off in 
those thin little clouds, but it is really so strong that we some- 
times call it a giant, and wise men have found out how to make 
it do a great deal of work. They shut this giant '' Steam " up, 
leaving him only a little place through which to escape, and then 
they put the machinery right where he will push against one 
little part of it when he rushes out, and thus set all the machin- 
ery in motion. That is the way giant Steam is made to turn 
the wheels of the steamboats and locomotives and mills, and 
to do all kinds of work. 

But we must not forget that it is the fairy Heat who changes 



218 IN THE child's WORLD. 



water into steam, for tlie same kind of fairy work is going on 
out of doors, too. Wherever the warm. little sunbeams find 
water, the fairy lleat will work away at some of it, changing it 
and making it so fine and thin that we often cannot see it at all 
as it floats up through the air. 

In the sky, however, it sometimes gathers together into one 
mass, and then we call it a cloud ; and the cloud lies there in the 
sky until North AVind or East Wind comes that way. And then 
what happens? Why, the fairy Heat has to let go, and the cloud 
of water dust changes into drops of water; and the drops of 
water are so heavy that they immediately fall down to the earth 
again. And when that happens, the little kindergarten children 
sing some of their pretty songs about the rain. 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Forms of Water, ------- Tyndall 

Fairyland of Science (Chaps. T, IV, V), - - Arabella Buckley 

nymn before Sunrise in the Vale of Chamounix, - Coleridge 

Clear and Cool, . _ - - - Charles Kingsley 

Ode on Introdnction of Cochituate Water into Boston, - - Loicell 

The Old Oaken Bucket, - - - - Samuel Woodworth 

The Steamboat, - - - - - - O. W. Holmes 

The Sons of Steam, - - - - - - G. W. Cutter 

Robin's Rain Song, - - - - '' St. Nicholas," April, ISSl 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

Tom, the Water Baby (" Kindert^arten Stories and Morning 

Talks"), - - - - - - - ^ S. E. Wiltse 

The Crow and the Pitcher (" Kindergarten Stories and 

Morning Talks'"), - - - - - S. E. Wiltse 



IN' THK child's AVOULD. 210 



STORIES. 



TO WHOM SHALL WE (ilVE THANKS? 

A little boy had sought the pump 
From whence the sparkling water burst, 

And drank with eager joy the draught 
That kindly quenched his raging thirst. 

Then gracefully he touched his cap, 

"I thank you, Mr. Pump,'' he said, 
" For this nice drink you 've given me." 
(This little boy had been well-bred.) 

Then said the Pump: "My little man, 

You 're welcome to what I have done; 
But I am not the one to thank, 
I only help the water run." 
"Oh I then," the little fellow said, 
(Polite he always meant to be), 
" Cold Water, please accept my thanks, 
You have been very kind to me." 

"Ah!" said Cold Water. " don't thank me! 

For up the hillside lives a spring 
That sends me forth with generous hand 

To gladden every living thing." 
" I'll thank the spring, then," said the boy. 

And gracefully he bowed his head. 
" Oh ! don't thank me, my little man," 

The sj^ring with silvery accents said. 

" Oh! don't thank me, for what am I 
Without the dews and summer rain? 
Without their aid I ne'er could quench 
Your thirst, my little boy, again." 
"Oh, well, then,"' said the little boy, 

" I'll gladly thank the rain and dew." 

" Pray, don't thank us! Without the sun 

We could not fill one cup for you.'' 

" Then, Mr. Sun, ten thousand thanks 

For all that you have done for me." 
" Stop," said the Sun, with blushing face, 
" My little fellow, don't thank me. 



220 IX THK CIIILD's WOKIJ). 



'Twas from the ocean's mighty stores 
I drew the draught I gave to thee." 
•O Ocean, thanks," then said the hoy. 
It echoed back: " No thanks to me I 

' Not unto me, but unto him 

Who formed the depths in wliich I lie, 
Go give thy tlianks, my little boy, — 

To Him who will thj' wants supply. '" 
The boy took off his cap and said 
In tones so gentle and subdued, 
'O God, I thank thee for thy gift. 
Thou art the Giver of all good." 



Unknown. 



SXOWFLAKES. 

( WWi siir/f/estionsfor a .stick lesson.) 

Once upon a time, a little Raindrop thought it had played long 
enough up in the clouds, and said it would go down to the earth 
and see what good it could do. So it started. 

While it was falling it had to pass through a cloud that was 
very cold, and this funny little Raindrop, instead of shrinking 
together as we do when we are cold, stretched out and stretched 
out till it was not round any more, but was long and thin and 
hard like a needle; and that is just what it was — a little ice 
needle. 

As it went on falling, it met another just like itself. 

The second on6 said: " Little Ice Needle, where are you 
going?"' 

" Down to the earth to see what good I can do." 

" 1^11 go, too;" so the second ice needle joined the first, (put 
the two sticks together at angle of sixty degrees), and they fell 
together. 

Pretty soon they met a third, and it said: "Little Ice Nee- 
dles, where are you going?'' 

" Down to the earth to see what good Ave can do." 

'' Then I '11 go, too." So it joined the others and they fell 
together. (Add a third stick at the same angle, and so on till a 



222 IN THE child's would. 

six-pointed snow-star is made.) Then they met another and 
another and another, who all joined them. Then there were 
six little ice needles falling together, and they had a new name 
— "Snowflake." 

Little Snowflake met others who asked it where it was going. 

" Down to the ground to see what good I can do." 

** We '11 go, too. But where shall we go?" 

" I know,'' said one of the little ice needles. " Last summer, 
when I was warm and round, I saw a place where a poor little 
sick boy had planted some seeds which a kind lady gave him, 
and I think it would be nice to fall on that place and keep it 
warm, so that the seeds in the ground may not freeze, and the 
little boy may have some flowers next summer." 

''Oh! so we will," said they all, and they fell faster and 
faster that they might get there sooner. Other snowflakes saw 
them and went too, and the ground was covered more and more 
thickly with snow till there w^as enough to keep the seeds from 
freezing all winter. 

When the weather began to be warmer, the snow turned into 

water and ran down into the earth, and the seeds drank it and 

swelled and swelled until, by and by, little leaves came out above 

ground, from each seed. Then other leaves grew, and, when 

summer came, little Frank had his flowers again, and all because 

one little raindrop wanted to do some good in the world. 

Josephine Jarvis. 
Cohden, III. 



THE LMMORTAL FOUNTAIN. 

In ancient times two little princesses lived in Scotland, one of 
whom was extremely beautiful, and the other dwarfish, dark 
colored and deformed. The sisters did not live happily together. 

Marion hated Kose because she was handsome and everybody 
praised her. She scowled when anybody told her how pretty her 
little sister Rose was. No wonder all the family and all the 
neighbors disliked Marion, and no wonder her face grew uglier 
and uglier every day. 



IN THE child's woklu. 333 



One summer noon, when all was still save the faint twittering 
of the birds and lazy hum of the insects, Marion entered a deep 
grotto. She sat down on a bank of moss; the air around her was 
as fragrant as if it cam.e from a bed of violets; and with the sound 
of far-off music dying on her ear, she fell into a gentle slumber. 

When she awoke, a figure of real loveliness stood before her, and 

thus she sang: — 

The Fairy Queen 
Hath rarely seen 
Creature of earthly mould 
Within her door, 
On pearly floor, 
Inlaid with shining gold. 
Mortal, all thou seest is fair; 
Quick thy purposes declare. 

i\.s she concluded, the song was taken up and thrice repeated 
by a multitude of soft voices in the distance. It seemed as if birds 
and insects joined in the chorus. All these delightful sounds 
soon died away and the Queen of the Fairies stood patiently await- 
ing Marion's answer. Courtesying low, and with a trembling 
voice, the little maiden said: — 

''Will it please your Majesty to make me as handsome as my 
sister Eose?" 

'• I will grant your request," said she, ''if you will promise to 
fulfill all the conditions I propose." 

Marion eagerly promised that she would. 

"(to home, now," said the Queen: "for one week speak no 
ungentle word to your sister; at the end of that time, come again 
to the grotto." 

The end of the week arrived, and Marion had faithfully kept 
her promise. Again she went to the grotto. 

"Mortal, hast thou fulfilled thy promise?" asked the Queen. 

" I have," said Marion. 

" Then follow me." 

Marion did jis she was directed, and away they went over beds 
of violets and mignonette. The birds warbled above their heads, 
butterflies cooled the air, and the gurgling of many fountains 
came with a refreshing sound. Presently they came to the hill, 



224 IN THE child's WORLD. 

on the top of which was the Immortal Fountain. Its foot was 
surrounded by a band of fairies clothed in green gossamer. 

The Queen waved her wand over tliem, and immediately they 
stretched their thin wings and flew away. The hill was steep, 
and far, far up they went; and the air became more fragrant and 
more distinctly they heard the sound of waters falling in music. 
At length they were stopped by a band of fairies clothed in blue, 
with their silver wands crossed. 

''Here," said the Queen, " our journey must end. You can go 
no farther until you have fulfilled the orders I shall give you. Go 
home now; for one month do by your sister, in all resjDects, as you 
would wish her to do by you, were you Rose and she Marion." 

Marion promised and departed. She found the task harder 
than the first had been. When Rose asked for any of her play- 
things, she found it difficult to give them gently and affection- 
ately, instead of pushing them along. 

When Rose talked to her, she wanted to go away in silence; and 
when a mirror was found in her sister's room, broken in a thou- 
sand pieces, she felt sorely tempted to conceal that she did the 
mischief. But she was so anxious to be made beautiful, that she 
did as she would be done by. All the household remarked how 
Marion had changed. " I love her dearly," said Rose, " she is so 
good and amiable." 

'' So do I," said a dozen voices. 

Marion blushed deeply, and her eyes sparkled with pleasure. 
"How pleasant it is to be loved I" thought she. 

At the end of the month she went to the grotto again. The 
fairies in blue lowered their silver wands and flew away. They 
traveled on; the path grew steeper and steeper; but the fragrance 
of the atmosphere was redoubled, and more distinctly came the 
sound of the waters falling in music. Their course was stayed by 
a troop in rainbow robes, and silver wands tipped with gold. 

"Here we must pause," said the Queen; "this boundary you 
cannot yet pass." 

"Why not?" asked the impatient Marion. 

" Because they must be very pure who pass the rainboAV fairies," 
replied the Queen. " They must be pure in thought as well as in 
action. Return home; for three months never indulge in an 



llSr TUB child's "WORLD. 225 



envious or wicked thought. You shall then have a sight of the 
Immortal Fountain." 

Marion was sad at heart, for she knew how many envious 
thoughts and wrong wishes she had suffered to gain power over her. 

When she again visited the Palace of Beauty, the Queen smiled 
and then led her away to the Immortal Fountain. The silver 
specks on the wings of the rainbow fairies shone bright as she 
approached them, and they lowered their wands, and sang as they 

flew away: — 

Mortal, pass on, 

Till the goal is won, — 

For such, I ween, 

Is the will of the Queen, — 

Pass on ! Pass on ! 

And now every footstep was on flowers that yielded beneath 
their feet. The delicious fragrance could almost be felt, and 
loud, clear and liquid came the sound of the waters as they fell 
in music. And now the cascade is seen leaping and sparkling 
over crystal rocks, and deep and silent below the foam is the 
Immortal Fountain. Its amber-colored waves flow over a golden 
bed; and as the fairies bathe in it, the diamonds on their hair 
glance like sunbeams on the waters. 

"Oh, let me bathe in the fountain!" cried Marion, clasping 
her hands in delight. 

" Xot yet," said the Queen. "Go home; for another year 
drive away all evil feelings, not for the sake of bathing in this 
Fountain, but because goodness is lovely and desirable for its 
own sake." 

This was the hardest task of all. For she had been willing to 
be good, not because it was right to be good, but she wished to 
be beautiful. Three times she sought the grotto, and three 
times she left in tears. The fourth time she prevailed. The 
purple fairies that guarded the brink of the fountain lowered 
their wands, singing: — 

Thou hast scaled the mountain, 

Go, bathe in the Fountain; 

Rise fair to the sight 

As an angel of light; 

Go, bathe in the Fountain. 



226 IN THE child's world. 



Marion was about to plunge in, but the Queen touched her, 
saying, " Look in the mirror of waters. Art thou not already 
as beautiful as heart could Avish? " 

Marion looked at herself, and saw that her eyes sparkled with 
a new lustre, that a bright color shone through her cheeks, and 
dimjiles played sweetly about her mouth. 

'' I have not touched the Immortal Fountain/' said she, turn- 
ing in surprise to the Queen. 

" True," replied the Queen," but its waters have been within 
your soul. Know that a pure heart and a clear conscience are 
the only immortal fountains of beauty." 

Ever after the sisters lived happily together. It was the 
remark of every one, " How handsome Marion has grown I The 
ugly scowl has gone from her face, and the light of her eye is so 
mild and ])leasant, and her mouth looks so smiling and good 
natured that, to my taste, I declare, she is as handsome as Rose.'* 

L. Maria Child. 



WATER, II. 



To THE Teaciikk: 



(Review briefly the effects of cold and heat upon water, especially the 
lifting up of vapor and the formation of clouds and rain. ) 



THE TALK. 

When the rain fulls, what becomes of it? The little drops soak 
into the ground and the thirsty roots drink with delight all that 
they need. But they do not use it all. The rest of the water 
runs along in the ground till by and by it finds a chance to bubble 
out somewhere. I wonder whether it is as glad to get out of the 
dark earth and into the air and sunshine again as the miner is? 
It sparkles as if it were! 

The first chance it gets to run down hill, away it skips, and 
soon finds another dancing, sparkling little stream like itself and 
perhaps another and another. " We are so little, each alone,'' 
they say; 'Met us all go together." 

So the tiny streams of water weave themselves into one, and 
people say: " What a pretty brook! "' (Sing the Fra-bel song of 
"The Brook'' and talk of the bridge. It might be well to see 
whether the children have kept the sequence thus far: Rain, 
spring, streamlet, brook.) 

The pretty brook flows along — dancing, leaping, sparkling, 
laughing and even singing. I have heard it sing many a time! 
Let us play we are sitting by the side of this little singing brook 
and watching its visitors. (Try to have the children see the little 
birds splashing in the brook and sipping its waters, the flowers 
and grasses leaning over its brink, the silvery fishes flashing 
through its ripples, the child sailing his toy boat in the safe shal- 
lowness of one of its pools, the solemn frog plunging clumsily out 



•'^•-^S IX THE child's WORLD. 



of sight if it hears us, the cows and the big horse walking into 
the brook to get a refreshing drink. The children's imagination 
might be quickened by letting them personate the birds, cows, 
horses, etc., which come to the brook to drink.) The little brook 
gives freely to all and ripples joyously along. AVhenever it finds 
another brook it calls out, " Are you going my way? ^\e are so 
small, each alone — let us go together;" and so, just as the tiny 
streamlets wove themselves together to make the brook, the brooks 
fioAv together into one and make a river. (Rain, spring, stream- 
lets, brooks, riTer, Help the children to picture now a river with 
its increased size and force; the rocky places over which it leaps; 
the life in and about it, the large boats, the logs floating down 
from the forest, the bridges and the mills grinding corn, sawing 
wood, etc., which it works.) 

The river is a great worker I All along ite way it finds some- 
thing to do. Sometimes, indeed, the river spreads itself out into 
a pond or lake and lies there more quietly, but it soon rushes on 
again and at last it reaches the ocean — the great meeting place 
of all the waters. 

•Have any of you been to the seashore and seen the ocean? 
Have you ever watched the little curling waves creeping up to the 
shore and then running back into the big sea as fast as they could ? 
Or the great, high waves, rolling grandly up only to hurry back 
again in the same way? The water of the river is now part of the 
ocean and races up to the shore and back again when its turn 
comes. {Rain, spring, stream, brook, river, ocean.) 

AVhat a long journey the water has taken! But it is going to 
travel farther yet; for the bright, hot sun sends his heat fairies 
down, and as soon as they have made some of the water from the 
top of the waves fine enough and light enough, up it goes to the 
sky again and is made into clouds. And then what does it do but 
turn into drops of rain just as before, and start on the same long 
journey again I 




Water at Work. 



229 



^30 



IX THE child's world. 



TEACHER'S READING. 



Forms of Water, . - . . 

Fairyland of Science, - - - - 

" The Bridge," . . . . 

Undine, . . . . . 

The Fountain, - - 

The Brook, 

The Marshes of Glynn, ... 

Mad River, ] 

Songo River, f 

Sonjjf of the Chattahoochee, - - - 

To Seneca Lake, . . . . 

How the Water comes down at Lodore, 

The Sea, - . - . . 

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (Canto IV, 178), 

The Coral Grove, . . . . 

The Merman, - - - 

The Mermaid, ----- 

The Forsaken Merman, ... 

The Tides, . - . . . 

Break, break, break, ) 

A Farewell, ) 

FOR THE CHILDREN". 
Aqua (" The Story Hour"), - 



- Tyndall 

- Buckley 
FroebeV s Explanation 

De la Motte Fouque 

Loioell 

Tennyson 

Lanier 



J. G. 



Longfelloxo 

- Lanier 
Percival 

- Southey 
Barry Cornwall 

Byron 

- J. G. Percival 

Tennyson 

Tennyson 

Matthew Arnold 

- W. C. Bryant 

Tennyson 



K. D. Wiggin 



STORIES-. 

STONY AND ROCKY. 

Once upon a time there was a great family of limestones, all 
piled up on the bank of a river. They had been so close together 
that one could not be told from another. They had finished the 
work they had to do together. The time had now come for them 
to separate and do another kind of work. 

Away up on top, Stony and Rocky, two lively boys of this family, 
could look down into the river. There they saw some of their 
brothers and sisters who long ago had left their home, and whose 
sharp corners and edges had been worn away by the water, which 
rolled them over and over, rubbing them against each other until 



IN THE CHIL!' S WORLD. 231 



all the rough edges were gone, and they were smooth and round. 
These little i^ebbles kept calling to Stony and Rocky up on the 
cliffs, to come down. They wanted to go very much, but they 
could not break off from their old home without some help. As 
they sat up there wishing very much to go into the river below, 
Jack Frost went rushing by on the wings of the wind. Kocky 
called to this jolly little fellow and asked if he could not help 
them. Jack said, " Of course I can; what help do you need?'^ 
" Oh!" said Stony, "we are fastened here so tight that we can^t 
get away. Can't you set us free? Our brothers and sisters are 
having a good time down in the water, and we want to go there. "" 
"All right," said Jack, " you shall go, and I will help you." So 
he set to work, and marked off with his ice pencil a cold, white 
line. *•' The sunshine will soon be along," he said, " and will help 
you, too." Then away he flew. Sure enough, the sunshine did 
come, and set to work to thaw out Jack Frost's ice lines, and make 
the rocks warm. The wind blew on them, and the tiny raindrops 
came to help, too. All worked very hard together, and the rocks 
felt themselves loosening from their old homes. At last, one 
night. Jack Frost brought his ice chisel and gave them a hard 
knock, and they kept getting looser and looser, until — plunge!!! — 
they went headlong into the water. 

Oh, dear, how frightened they were! The water was so cold 
and dark,, and rushed around them so rapidly, that they were 
shaken up and trembled with fear. How they wished they had 
never left their quiet home to come down here in this busy rush. 

In a little while they had the courage to look up, and there 
they saw the tiny twinklers up in the sky, looking down at them 
as they had always done, and the moon sending them light and 
smiling upon them as she had done ever since they could remem- 
ber. Their little pebble brothers and sisters comforted them, and 
they were soon better contented. 

The next day. Stony and Rocky began to run and play in the 
water, like the pebbles. They had rather a hard time of it at first, 
because they never had been with such busy people before, and 
they had such sharp corners that they were always getting badly 
hurt. 

They soon grew to love the soft, singing water, and to like the 



232 IN THE child's world. 

busy life, even with the sharp knocks — much better than the old 
life on "the cliffs. 

After a long, long time, more years than any of us have lived, 
Rocky and Stony were worn down into round, smooth pebbles, 
and others from their old home were falling down into the water. 

Their work here, in the water, had made them ready for another 
kind of work. One day, a man came down to the river with a 
wheelbarrow and gathered it full of pebbles out of the river. The 
pebbles wondered what work they had to do now. 

The man carried them away oU iuto the great city, and made 
with them some beautiful walks in a large park where a great 
many little children come to play, as soon as the spring comes 
every year. They love to play with the pebbles, and the pebbles 
like to take care of their tiny feet and keep them out of the mud. 

This is the last home that Stony and Rocky ever had and they 
lived there ever after. 

Annie E. Allex. 

" The Kindergarten Magazine^ 



THE LITTLE HERO OF HAARLEM. 

At an early period in the history of Holland, a boy, who is 
the hero of the following narrative, was born in Haarlem, a town 
remarkable for its variety of fortune in war, but happily still 
more so for its manufactures and inventions in peace. His 
father was a sluicer — that is, one whose employment it was to 
open and shut the sluices, or large oak gates, which, placed at 
certain regular distances, close the entrances of the canals, and 
secure Holland from the danger to which it seems exposed — of 
finding itself under water, rather than above it. 

When water is wanted, the sluicer raises the sluices more or 
less, as required, and closes them again carefully at night; other- 
wise the water would flow into the canals, overflow them, and 
inundate the whole country. Even the little children in Hol- 
land are fully aware of the importance of a punctual discharge 
of the sluicer's duties. 

The boy was about eight years old when, one day, he asked 



IN THE child's WORLD. 2o3 



permission to take some cakes to a jioor blind man, who lived 
at the other side of the dike. His father gave him leave, but 
charged him not to stay too late. The child promised, and set 
off on his little journey. The blind man thankfully partook of 
his young friend's cakes, and the boy, mindful of his father's 
orders, did not wait, as usual, to hear one of the old man's 
stories, but as soon as he had seen him eat one muffin, took leave 
of him to return home. 

As he went along by the canals, then quite full, for it was 
in October and the autumn rains had swelled the waters, the 
boy now stopped to pull the little blue flowers which his mother 
loved so well, now, in childish gaycty, hummed i-ome merry song. 

The road gradually became more solitary, and soon neither 
the joyous shout of the villager, returning to his cottage home, 
nor the rough voice of the carter, grumbling at his lazy horses, 
was any longer to be heard. The little fellow now perceived 
that the blue of the flowers in his hand was scarcely distinguish- 
able from the green of the surrounding herbage, and he looked 
up in some dismay. The night was falling; Bot, however, a 
dark winter night, but one of those beautiful, clear, moonlight 
night's, in which every object is jjerceptible, though not as dis- 
tinctly as by day. 

The child thought of his father, of his injunction, and was 
preparing to quit the ravine in which he was almost buried, and 
to regain the beach, when suddenly a slight noise, like the trick- 
ling of water upon pebbles, attracted his attention. He was 
near one of the large sluices, and he now carefully examined it, 
and soon discovered a hole in the wood, through which the water 
was flowing. 

"With the instant perception which every child in Holland 
would have had, the bov saw that the water must soon enlarge 
the hole, through which it was now only dropping, and that 
utter and general ruin would be the consequence of the inunda- 
tion of the country that must follow. 

To see, to throw away the flowers, to climb from stone to 
stone till he reached the hole, and put his finger into it, was the 
work of a moment, and, to his delight, he found that he had suc- 
ceeded in stopping the flow of the water. 



234 IN THE child's wokld. 

This Avas all very well for a little while, and the child 
thought only of the success of his device. But the night was 
closing in, and with the night came the cold. The little boy 
looked around in vain. No one came. He shouted — he called 
loudly — no one answered. 

He resolved to stay there all night, but, alas, the cold was 
becoming every moment more biting, and the poor finger fixed 
in the hole began to feel benumbed, and the numbness soon ex- 
tended to the hand, and thence throughout the whole arm. The 
pain became still greater, still harder to bear, but still the boy 
moved not. 

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he thought of his father, 
of his mother, of his little bed where he might now be sleeping 
so soundly, but still the little fellow stirred not, for he knew 
that did he remove the small, slender finger which he had 
opposed to the escape of the water, not only would he himself 
be drowned, but his father, his brothers, his neighbors — nay, the 
whole village. 

We know not what faltering of purpose, what momentary 
failures of courage there might have been during that long and 
terrible night; but certain it is that at daybreak he was found in 
the same painful position by a clergyman returning from an 
attendance on a death bed, who, as he advanced, thought he 
heard groans, and bending over the dike, discovered a child 
seated on a stone, writhing from pain, and with pale face and 
tearful eyes. 

" In the name of wonder, boy," he exclaimed, '' what are 
you doing there?" 

" I am hindering the water from running out," was the an- 
swer, in perfect simplicity, of the child who, during that whole 
night, had been evincing such heroic fortitude and undaunted 
courage. 

The Muse of history, too often blind to true glory, has 
handed down to posterity many a warrior, the destroyer of thou- 
sands of his fellow men — she has left us in ignorance of this real 
little hero of Haarlem. 

— Sharpe's Magazine. 



IN THE child's WORLD. '236 

DO WHAT YOU CAN". 

There was once a farmer who had a large field of corn; lie 
ploughed it and planted the corn, and harrowed and weeded it 
with great cure, and on his field he depended for the chief sup- 
port of his family. But after he had worked hard, he saw the 
corn begin to wither and droop for rain, and he began to have 
fears for his crop. He felt very sad, and went over every day to 
look at his corn, and see if there was any hope of rain. 

One day as he stood looking at the sky, and almost in despair, 
two little raindrops up in the clouds over his head saw him, and 
one said to the other: 

" Look at that farmer; I feel sorry for him, he has taken so 
much pains with his field of corn, and now it is drying up; I 
wish I could do him some good."' 

"Yes," said the other, "but you are only a little raindrop; 
what can you do? You can't even wet one hillock."' 

" Well," said the first, " to be sure I can't do much, but I can 
cheer the farmer a little at any rate, and I am resolved to do my 
best; I '11 try. I '11 go to the field to show my good will, if I can 
do no more; and so here I go." 

The first raindrop had no sooner started for the field than the 
second one said: 

" Well, if you are going, I believe I will go, too; here I come." 
And down went the raindrops — one came pat on the farmer's 
nose, and one fell on a stalk of corn. " Dear me," said the farmer, 
putting his finger to his nose, "what's that? A raindrop! 
where did that come from? I do believe we shall have a shower." 

By this time a great many raindrops had come together to hear 
what their companions were talking about, and when they saw 
them going to cheer the farmer and water the corn, one said: 
" If you are going on such a good errand, I "11 go, too,"' and 
down he came. " And I," said another, " and I," and so on, till 
a whole shower came, and the corn was watered, and it grew and 
ripened — all because the first little raindrop determined to do 
what it could. 

Selected. 



^oG IN THE child's AVOKLD. 



XEPTUNE. 

Far down under the green water, where the sea-sand lies 
smooth and white, and fishes dart about like flashes of silver 
among the seaweeds, there lived the old ocean god Neptune 
(Poseidon). ''Father Neptune," people used to call him. 
There he had his palace, and there he kept the wild sea horses 
which he had trained and taught to draw his chariot over the 
water. 

One morning, as Neptune came from his palace, he was sur- 
prised to find everything in great disorder. The water, usually- 
still and clear as crystal, with the green light shining through 
it, was dim and disturbed; it beat against the walls of the palace 
and was full of bits of broken shell and of seaweeds torn from 
their stems. As Neptune stood looking about him, the big, good- 
natured dolphins came rolling uneasily about his feet, as if to 
ask what could be the matter. The dolphins were wise crea- 
tures, and were often sent about as messengers by Neptune. So 
he chose one now to go and find out the cause of all this confu- 
sion. The dolphin soon came back, saying that a terrible storm 
was raging above; that the winds were rolling great waves to the 
shore and tossing the spray high in the air; that he had seen 
ships, too, driven upon the rocks by these wild winds, or on 
dangerous shoals and shallows. 

Neptune straightway harnessed his horses, mounted the 
chariot, and with firm rein guided his steeds upward to the scene 
of the storm. Calm and majestic the ocean god sat in his 
chariot, holding his trident like a magic wand, and the rough 
waters smoothed themselves out before him as he went. His son 
Triton swam alongside, a twisted seashell in his hand, on which 
he sometimes blew a bugle call. The dolphins, too, followed, 
swimming hither and thither and tumbling over each other in 
their eagerness to help. At last they reached the top of the 
water. No sooner did Neptune's calm head rise above the sur- 
face than, like magic, the tossing waves were still and the sea 
became smooth as glass; the winds subsided, and all was peaceful 
as a summer's day. 

Neptune called the winds to him, and reproving them severely 



IN THE child's WORLD. 237 

for their rough play, sent them home again to King yEoIus. 

Then he looked for the unfortunate ships that were in danger. 

Those that were on the rocks Triton pried off, Neptune helping 

with his trident, and those that had been driven among the 

shallows they led back to deep water. At last all was in order — 

and it was a grand sight to see calm old Father Neptune in his 

chariot, gliding over the sea he had made quiet again, while the 

dolphins played about him, their smooth backs glistening in 

the sun. 

F. H. 



THE BROOK AND THE AVATER WHEEL. 

The water wheel in a gristmill went round and round, by day 
and by night, without stopping. Said the brook one day, as it 
passed over the wheel: 

" Are you not tired of being always at work, and of doing the 
same thing to-day that you did yesterday? When I have done my 
work in making you turn, I glide on and take my pleasure in 
flowing through the fields and the woods. ^' 

*'But my pleasure," replied the wheel, "is in continuing to 
work and go round and round grinding up the corn." 

"Yesterday," continued the brook, "as I flowed through the 
meadow, I heard some people who were wandering there say how 
beautiful I was, and what sweet music I made as I rippled over 
the stones." 

"And no doubt they said what was true," replied the wheel, 
"but it could never be said of me. Hoav would I look rolling 
through the meadow? I would not be admired by others, nor 
would I enjoy it myself." 

"You are to be admired for your humility," said the brook, 
" in being contented with so dismal a place." 

" Not at all," replied the wheel, " for when this place was given 
me, I was given also a liking for it." 

" But do you not long for the sunlight and the breeze and a 
sight of the birds and the flowers?" 

"No more than vou do for this dim chamber under the milL 



238 IN THE child's AVOllLD. 

Here I was made to dwell, and here I am satisfied to be. I greet 
you tumbling in from the mountain side over my head, and bid 
you adieu as you flow out joyously under my feet; but I do not 
long to follow you. The summer's heat does not parch me here, 
nor the winter's frost stop me from turning. Ever in this dim 
twilight I revolve and listen to the sound of the grinding. I 
delight to hear the farmer drive his team to the mill door loaded 
with grain, and afterward haul it away when I have made it into 
flour for his wife and children to eat. I am content to stay here 
and labor — not by constraint nor for duty's sake alone, but be- 
cause the place accords with my nature and therefore it is my 
choice." 

Charles Foster. 

From ".ZVet« Lights 07i Old Paths,'''' Chas. Foster Pub. Co., Phila., Pa. 



FISHES. 




To THE Teacher: — 

Unless you have been a dweller in the country, a student of nature, a 
haunter of rivers and brooksides, a lover of watery scenes, or have 
learned your incompetency as a judge from some such person, fishes 
will seem a most prosaic and unattractive division of the animal creation. 
But if you will kindly lay down your prejudice and contemplate the 
subject earnestly (through books for lack of better opportunity), you 
will find your prejudice a mistaken one, and it will be replaced by admi- 
ration and delight. Read from science the wonderful history and 
structure of the fishes, their weapons and devices, their infinite variety 
of form, color, size, motion, and then let the poets enhance the wondrous 
revelation. 

Sticklebacks, goldfishes or minnows can be kept in the kindergarten, 
but are often short-lived because of being overfed or kept too warm. 



THE TALK. 



Do you remember the brook we talked about, and the busy 
river, and the wonderful great ocean? Do you remember what 
creatures lived in all these waters? 

(The children's knowledge being the true starting point, elicit 
what they already know about fishes. Many who have not seen 
them in their native element will have seen them in the fish 
markets. ) 

Have you noticed what big mouths fishes have, and what round 



240 IN THE child's WORLD. 

eyes? Their ears do not show, but they can hear for all th:it. 
Their noses, although sharp enough for smelling, especially when 
something good to eat floats along in the water, are of no use to 
them for breathing, as ours are. But the fishes do not mind 
that, for, since they live in the water, they need a different 
way of breathing from animals who live in the air. So they 
have gills, with little thin, hard covers which open and shut, on 
each side of the head. 

A fish gulps water into his mouth continually and sends it out 
through his gills. Before he sends the water out through his 
gills he gets all the air out of it. This is his way of breathing. 

The skin of the fish, instead of being covered with hair like 
that of the cat and the cow and the horse, is covered with little 
hard, shiny bits, called scales. These are often of beautiful 
colors. I believe you could find fishes to match all the pretty 
balls we have in kindergarten! 

What shape is the fish's body usually? Long and narrow, that 
he may go through the water easily. Do you remember that the 
cat, the horse and the cow all had backbones, and all had four 
legs — two pairs, that is? People have backbones, and have two 
legs and two arms — which make two pairs, also. 

Tiie fish has a backbone. (Show by a picture previously drawn 
upon the blackboard.) Has he any legs? Any arms? No; but 
he has fins — two leg-fins and two arm-fins. (If not possible to 
show these facts by a real fish, make a clay model of good size — 
five or six inches long — from which the children can get the idea 
of the position of the fins.) 

Fishes often have single fins on one place or another, but these 
single fins only grow out from the skin and are not part of the 
body in the same way that the leg-fins and arm-fins are. 

The tail is a single fin. Do you see the angle in the tail? 
What kind of an angle is it? 

Do you know what the fish uses his fins for? To balance him- 
self with, and as a help in swimming. His tail is very strong. 
He pushes himself along in the water with it, and also uses it to 
steer himself in whatever direction he wishes to go, while his 
arm-fins and leg-fins keep him from falling over. 

What do you suppose the fishes do all day and every day in the 



IN THE CHILD S WORLD. 241 

I 

water? Swim? Yes, they swim and play and chase each other 
about; they dive away down, sinking deep into the cold, dark 
water, and then rising up to the top, where it is warm and bright 
with sunshine. 

In the deep, deep pnrts of the ocean it is dark, just as it is 
deep down in the earth where the miner works. The sunlight 
cannot reach so far through the water, but if we were down there 
we should see lights gleaming through the darkness, for the 
fishes that live so far down have a strange kind of light flashing 
from their bodies, and so can see their way. Does n't that make 
you think of the miners and the little lamps which they wear so 
that they can see their way deep down in the earth, where the 
sunlight cannot reach? 

But we need not go to the farthest depth of the great ocean to 
find wonderful and beautiful fishes. Even the brooks have 
pretty little fellows in them that look as if they were made of 
silver or gold. 

It is difficult to tell whether the bright colors or the curious 
shapes or the graceful motions of the fishes are most interesting, 
but when you hear how the father fishes sometimes build nests 
and take care of the eggs, and feed and protect the baby fishes 
and the mother, you will think that is the strangest and best 
of all the many facts which the wise men have learned. 



242 IN THE child's world. 



TEACHER'6 READING. 

Froebel's Explanation of " The Fish in the Brook." 

Winners in Life's Race (Chaps. I, II, III), - Arabella Buckley 

The Origin of Species, .---.. Darwin 

The Song of Life, - - - . . Manjaret Morley 

The Conipleat Angler, - - . . . Izaak Walton 

Speckled Trout, } t 7 n , 

Locusts and Wild Honey,; - ' " " - John Burroughs 

Paradise Lost (Book VII, Line 387), .... Milton 

The Fish, the Man, and the Spirit, ... Leigh Hunt 

Hiawatha's Fishing, ------ Longfellow 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

Birds and Fishes ("Kindergarten Stories and Morning 

Talks"), - - - - - - - s. E. Wiltse 

Water Babies (The Salmon), - - . . Charles Kingsley 



STORIES. 

THE MINNOW'S ADVENTUEE. 

Oh! such a beautiful lake! The water was so clear and pure 
that it had not only its own beauty, but could take the beauty 
of whatever was near it. Pictured by the lake, the slender, 
white-robed birches and the graceful willows that grew on the 
bank were ^s beautiful as in their reality; and so were the blue 
of the sky, the gold of the sunshine and the silvery light of the 
moon. 

The lake was very, very deep. In some places near the shore, 
however, it was shallow, and rippled over the sand with only 
depth enough to float a leaf. 

Out in the deep parts of the lake lived the black bass and the 
pickerel and other large fishes; but the tiny minnow and their 
friends liked better the shallows, where the water was gilded and 
warmed by the sunshine. The fishes knew that there was an 
upper world, for many of them used to jump up a little way out 
of the water in their play, but they never stayed long, and did 



IN THE child's WORLD. 243 

not like what little they knew of this upper world. To them it 
seemed too bright and hot and dry. 

The older and more experienced fishes told strange tales to 
each other of wonderful creatures which, from time to time, had 
been known to come into the water. After swimming about in 
a more or less clumsy manner, these creatures always disappeared 
entirely; but back they would come, again and again, yes — the 
very same beings! The splashing and shaking of the water 
which most of them made was something astonishing, and the 
fishes were usually too much frightened by it to get more than 
hasty glimpses; but as each fish told the others whatever it had 
seen, they knew that there were many difEerent kinds of crea- 
tures among these visitors, and that it must be that they came 
from the dry iipper world. I cannot tell you what the fishes 
called them, but I know that wild ducks and frogs and dogs and 
boys loved to plunge into the clear, cool water of the lake, and 
dive and swim and float and be as much like fishes as they could. 
" Poor things! " said the fishes. " What a pity that they cannot 
stay always in the beautiful water world! Then they might 
learn to swim properly." 

The minnows knew very little of all these things, however, 
thougli they, too, sometimes jumped out above the water; but 
one of their number had a strange adventure not long ago, dur- 
ing which he learned a great deal. 

He was darting about in the sparkling water, chasing his play- 
mutes and having a merry frolic with them, when he suddenly 
found himself swimming round and round alone, and in a very 
small place. It surely was not the lake, nor yet the little river 
down which he had come some time ago. The minnow knew 
only these two places — the river and the lake. He had never 
been anywhere else, and had never heard of any world beside 
the water world, or of any living creatures larger than the black 
bass. You see he was very little and very young, scarcely 
more than a baby fish. 

As he swam round and round in the tin dipper — for it was a 
tin dipper in which he had been caught — he wondered what part 
of the lake this was, and why he could not swim farther, and 
where his friends were. 



244 IN THE CHILI) S WOULD. 

While he was wondering, a black shadow covered the water 
and the minnow thought that night was coming on; but it was 
only the shadow of a little boy^'s head, as Philip, the owner of 
the tin dipper, looked in to see what he had caught. 

"Oh! it's a shiner!" said he. "I never thought I could 
catch a shiner, they are so lively. I 've often tried before, but 
they always got away. Is n't he pretty?" 

"Oh! let me see, do, Philip!" said another eager voice, and 
another little head bent over the dipper. 

"Oh! oh! oh! What a darling little fish! And how fast he 
goes! Wliat round eyes he has and what a big mouth! 
Philip, let's take him home and have him for a pet!" 

"All right," said Philip; "we can put him in the goldfish 
globe." 

The two children scrambled up the bank and ran into the 
house. They carried the dipper to their mamma and showed 
her the treasure they had in it. 

"Where is the goldfish globe, mamma? May we have it? 
Is n't he a dear little thing? See how he shines! " 

Mamma was almost as much interested as the children. She 
lifted the glass globe down from the high shelf where it stood, 
and helped to fill it with fresh, cold water. 

" Now, dearies," she said, " I think we can probably keep this 
little fellow happy and well for a little while, and you can take 
care of him and watch him. But we must soon let him go back 
to his friends in the lake, for I am sure he will like that better 
than to stay here, no matter what we may do for him." 

Philip and his sister were less disappointed at this than you 
might think; for they had often had j^ets in this way before, and 
had learned to enjoy it. 

" Let's make it as much like the lake as we can," said Philip. 
"Don't you know it was all sandy there where I caught him? 
We can put some sand in the bottom of the globe." 

"There were stones there, too," said Nannie, eagerly. "I 
will bring those two pretty stones I found yesterday." 

In a little while the globe Avas ready and the water in the dip- 
per was poured gently into it, the minnow scarcely knowing 
when the change was made. 



IN THE child's WORLD, 245 

When ho first noticed the white sand at the bottom of the 
water, he darted down and nestled in it, thinking for a moment 
that he was back in the lake; but he soon found that he was still 
in a small place and alone. When he tried to swim straight 
ahead, he always came against the glass side of the globe; and 
this puzzled him very much, for it was as clear as water and yet 
so hard. He knew he had never seen anything like that in the 
lake. I suppose an older fish would have thought it was ice. 
When the minnow found that he could not swim a long way in 
this place, and that it certainly was not the lake, he began to 
explore very carefully, and soon decided that it was, at any rate, 
a very pleasant place. 

The sand and the pretty stones at the bottom seemed very 
homelike, and the minnow soon found that he could play very 
much as he used to in the lake, although, of course, he missed 
his companions. 

The stones had been placed a little way apart, and it was 
great fun to swim between them and around them part of the 
time. He could play "sink and rise,"' too, and that is one of 
the favorite plays among fishes. He was so glad that the water 
in the globe was deep enough for that game. Altogether the 
minnow decided that he could be very comfortable in this new 
home, although it was not to be compared with the lake, and 
although he could never be quite happy without any companions. 

While he was swimming about and his little fish brain (for fishes 
have brains) was full of these thoughts, Philip and Nannie were 
watching him with great delight. They enjoyed seeing his grace- 
ful motions as he darted back and forth between the stones or 
swam around near the side of the globe, sometimes stretching and 
straightening himself out, but usually curving his wavy little 
body one way and another. 

The children wondered whether he was ever perfectly still; for 
they saw that even when he floated, as he did occasionally near 
the top of the water, he moved either his tail or his fins slightly 
and lazily. 

Mamma was kept busy answering their questions and they were 
very much interested in all she told them. They could see the 
minnow gulp in water with his big mouth, and open and shut his 



246 IN THE child's WORLD. 

gill covers as he seut the water out again, and their mamma 
explained that he did not send the water out through his gills 
until after he had used the air from it, and that this was the fish's 
way of breathing. 

"I think 'shiners^ is a good name for these minnows/' said 
Philip. 

'' Yes/' said Nannie, ''but this one ought to have a special 
name. What shall we call him. Mamma?" 

Mamma suggested several names: Silversides, Flash, Speckle, 
Twist-abont, Ripple and Dart; — and the children finally decided 
on '* Ripple Silversides." " He ought to have two," said Nannie, 
"just as we have." 

All that day the children hovered about the globe, finding more 
and more to admire in their active little pet, and wondering more 
and more at his shining scales, his delicate, gauzy fins, his round, 
staring eyes, and funny mouth. 

The next morning, the children's first thought was for Ripple 
Silversides. They found him as lively as ever, and flashing 
brightly in the sunlight which streamed in at the window. 

. Philip caught him at last by dipping a little cup into the globe, 
but he had to try a great many times. Nannie had the dipper 
ready filled with fresh water, and Ripple was soon transferred. 

The next thing was to take him to the lake, and Philip and 
Nannie ran down the bank with almost as much eagerness as when 
they had scrambled up the day beforejforthey had been thinking 
what fun Ripple would have in telling his friends where he had 
been and what he had seen, so they were in a hurry to put him 
back into his old home. They went to the very place where they 
had found him, put the dipper down under the water and saw 
him an instant as he swam over the dij^per's edge and out into 
the lake. 

" Now he is gone! " said Philip. " Oh, see! There is a whole 
crowd of them! ^Now I cannot tell which one is Ripple! " 

Nannie looked rather wistfully at the swift flashes gleaming 
farther and farther away in the water. " I suppose Ripple is 
delighted to be back there again," she said. "Of course it is 
more fun than it would be for him to live alone in a glass globe 
in the house." 



ijsr THE child's would. 247 

111 the meantime, Ivipple ISilversides was eujoyiug to the utmost 
the freedom of swimming in a big place, and the fun of being 
again one of a throng. The excitement of the other minnows at 
his return and at what he told them was very great; and for a 
long time Ripple Silverside's adventure was one of the favorite 
stories of the water-world! 

Emilie Poulsson. 



MR. STICKLEBACK. 

A certain little fish was swimming about in the river one day, 
wondering what he should do with himself. He was usually a 
happy fellow, quite satisfied to pass his time as the other young 
fishes did; but now he was getting older and began to feel as if he 
wanted to do more than simply find his own food and amuse 
himself. 

True, there was plenty of fun to be had. Perhaps you think 
that children are the only ones who enjoy playing "tag "and 
'* hide-and-seek," and running races; but, if so, you must change 
your mind about thr^t, for the fishes know all these games and 
and many more, and have merry times down in the water. 

But " Fun is not fun if you have too much of it," thought this 
little fish; (oh, but he was a wise one!) " I wonder what else I 
can find to do!" He swam idly toward the bank of the river, and 
wandered among the plants that grew therie. Suddenly he caught 
sight of something fastened to one of the plants. 

" Oh, how beautiful! how convenient! " thought Mr. Stickle- 
back as he swam nearer and looked more closely at the newly 
discovered object. 

"No dinner here for you, sir!" gasped an excited voice; and 
our little friend found himself nose to nose with another fish very 
much like himself, and who seemed all ready to be angry with 
him. 

"Dinner! I've just had my dinner, and a good one, too; i 
shan't be hungry for some time yet," said Mr. Stickleback. '• I 
was merely admiring this pretty nest here. No harm in that, is 
there, friend ? " he added peaceably. 

The other fish grew quiet as Mr. Stickleback said this, and 



248 IN THE child's world. 

answered, a little apologetically: " I thought you might be after 
eggs; and though I have no eggs as yet, I want to discourage all 
prowlers. Of course, while I have a spine in my body I will de- 
fend my nest and my eggs." 

"Why, that is just the way I should feel, I know it is. 1 do 
not blame you one bit," said Mr. Stickleback. " And, speaking 
of spines, aren't mine somethinglike yours? and isn't your family 
name Cottoida? " 

" Yes, indeed," said the other pushing himself a little nearer 
with his right fin; "but I am usually called Stickleback, — Purple 
Stickleback, on account of my color, you see." 

"And I am Stickleback, too, — Scarlet Stickleback, on account 
of my color; and we are of the very same family. How delightful! 
Let's have a race!" and off they started with one vigorous whisk 
of their tails which sent them swiftly down the stream. 

They never knew how pretty they looked; but as they flashed 
along, one in deep beautiful purple, the other in "glowing scarlet 
trimmed with white and green," their colors gleamed out with 
wonderful brightness. They soon swam back to the group of 
plants, for Purple Stickleback would not go far from his nest; 
and Mr. Stickleback said: " JVoiv I know what to do. lam 
going to make a nest like yours." 

" Very well," said the other. " There's plenty of room here, 
and .1 do not think there is a better ])lace along the whole bank." 

Mr. Scarlet Stickleback: was already too much interested to care 
to talk or play any more. He peered about among the plants 
looking for strong stems to which to fasten his nest, and soon 
decided. 

" I can make it firm here," he said to himself, "even if the 
river rushes as wildly as it did after the last storm." Then Mr. 
Stickleback went to work indeed. He bit off pieces of leaf and 
carried them to the plant stems which he had chosen, fastening 
each bit with some glue which he found he had with him. Back 
and forth he went, patiently biting, carrying, glueing the tiny 
bits of leaf, until at last he had pieced together a leafy floor, large 
enough for the bottom of his house. 

Then he stopped to rejoice over his work and to consider what 
to do next. " It seems to be rather thin and light," he saiil, as 



IN THE child's WOULD. 24:9 

he watched it swaying up and down in the water, although fast- 
ened by its edges to the plant stems. " I know how I can make 
it steady;" and quick as thought Mr. Stickleback folded his tins 
close to his body and darted down through the water to the sandy 
bottom of the river. His plan was to take sand up to his nest and 
so make the floor of it heavy and steady. Perhaps you are won- 
dering how he was going to carry the sand, he, a little fish, with 
no hands, nor claws, nor feet; but he wasted no time in wondering. 
He would not ask any better way than his way, which was to fill 
his mouth with sand. Eising to the clump of plants, he very 
carefully emptied the sand from his mouth on the green floor, and 
then dived again. This he did several times, until he had sprin- 
kled the whole floor with sand and made it so heavy that it no 
longer bobbed up and down in the water, but kept its place un- 
disturbed, even when he tested it as he did by lashing his tail 
about furiously and making a great commotion in the water. 

" So far, so good," he said to himself; " and now I must make 
the walls. This is goin^ to be a beautiful nest! " Then followed 
more biting of leaves, and carrying, and glueing the bits together. 
Slow work it was, with no tools, remember! no hands, or feet or 
claws. But little by little the green sides were built up higher 
around the edge of the platform, and finally a roof was made in 
the same way — of leaf bits glued together. As he built he con- 
stantly rubbed against the inside walls of the house, and a sort of 
sticky stuff which oozed out of his body was rubbed off; and, what 
do you think? this hardened into a sort of varnish, so that the 
inside of his house was as smooth and nice as could be! 

Mr. Stickleback's nest was not like a bird's nest, all open on 
the top. It was more in the shape of a barrel, and about as large 
as a man's fist; and he made two round doorways in it. When 
he had finished these, he swam through and through the nest with 
great delight, rejoicing in the smooth walls, the strong floor, and 
the doorwiijs just large enough for him to swim through easily. 
When he was perfectly satisfied that there was nothing more he 
could do to make the nest prettier or better, he swam swiftly 
away. 

It was some time before he came back; but when he did come, 
he was not alone. He brought Mrs. Stickleback with him: and 



250 IN THE child's WORLD. 

you can imagine how happy he was to show her the nest he had 
built, and how pleased she must have been. 

By and by when the nest was full of eggs, Mr. Stickleback was 
so busy he scarcely knew what to do. He was so anxious about 
those eggs! and with good reason, too, for some of the hungry 
fishes would have been glad to eat them if they could have found 
a chance. But Mr. Stickleback was too watchful for them. The 
wiiy he swam about that nest — first to one door and then to the 
other, to see that the eggs were safe — was something wonderful 
to see. 

He was very particular about leaving both doorways open, 
although it made more for him to guard, of course; but the wise 
little fellow knew that the eggs needed the fresh, cool water of the 
river to flow over them in order to hatch them, so he was more 
than willing to watch both doors. Besides protecting the eggs, 
Mr. Stickleback had to turn them over sometimes, taking those 
which were underneath and putting them at the top so that the 
water should flow over them all. 

This busy time lasted for several weeks* and then — then Mr. 
Stickleback became busier than ever; for all the tiny eggs over 
which he had been watching hatched into little fishes, hundreds 
and hundreds of baby Sticklebacks, his own little ones! 

Back door, frontdoor, back door, front door — more like a fierce 
little soldier than ever was Mr. Stickleback as he went his rounds 
now, defending his babies as he had defended his eggs from the 
hungry fishes. And how they grew, those babies! It seemed to 
Papa Stickleback as if they were scarcely hatched before they 
began to get out of the nest. " In, in! stay in, my dears!" he 
would say as he looked at them through tlie frontdoor; but in 
the meaniime, one or two would slip out of the back door and 
swim away. They were too little to know any better and Papa 
Stickleback could only chase after them as fast as his fins could 
carry him and take them back to the nest, one at a time. How 
did he carry the children? Why, just as he had carried the sand 
when building his nest. In his mouth! By the time he had 
caught the little runaways, or swimaways, and had poked them 
into the nest again, one or two others would have gone out of the 
front door; and he would have to swim after them and catch them 

* Some authorities say two, or three, some say six weeks. 



IN" THE child's WORLD. 251 

and carry them back in. his mouth. Yes, indeed, it was a time 
of great anxiety. 

When the poor father was very much worried, his gay coloi's 
would grow dull and pale, hut they would brighten again when 
all went well with his family; while if an enemy came near the 
nest, the red and green of Mr. Stickleback's uniform became more 
brilliant as he bravely fought to protect his little ones. So brave 
was this tiny little father, in fact, that he would rush out and 
drive away fishes a great deal bigger than himself if he thought 
they were coming to trouble his family. 

Fish babies grow fast, however, as I said before, and the happy 
day soon came when Papa Stickleback had all his children out of 
the nest and away from the plants, and was teaching them the 
games which he used to play when he was young. 

In the midst of tlie fun they were joined by Mr. Purple Stickle- 
back and his children. "Hurrah for a race between us, — you 
and your children on one side, and I and my children on the 
other," said he. So the two companies started off, and it was a 
sight to see! — their gauzy fins waving, their bodies shining, and 
their colors — the deep, beautiful purple and the " glowing scarlet 
trimmed with white and green" — -making the water glow with 
splendor as they flashed through it. You would almost have 
thought that a rainbow had fallen into the stream! 

How the race ended I do not know; but I do know that by this 
time some of those Stickleback children must have grown up and 
made nests of their own, and they probably were just as busy and 
as happy and as faithful in taking care of their children as their 
little father liad been; for it is said that all the Stickleback fathers 
are of just that kind! 

Emilie Poulsson. 




Mi;. iSxirM.Ki-.At K and his Njlst. 



252 



TREES. 



To THE Teachek: — 

(Foi" ourselves, in 
our study of trees, we 
might take a first 
word from Emerson, 
who says in his essay 
on Nature: "It seems 
as if the day was not 
wholly profane in 
which we have given 
heed to some natural 
object." 

Have ready some 
twigs with leaf-buds 
on them. By keeping some in the house a few days in water and where 
they get the sunshine, and having besides some freshly gathered on the 
day of the talk, you can have leaf-buds in different stages of opening. 
Have also pieces of wood, some with bark and some without, and a trans- 
verse slice which will show the rings of growth. 

Maple sugar — enough for each child to have a taste — and pieces of 
India rubber should be provided also, but kept in reserve till the subject 
of sap is reached. 

Begin the talk by letting the children examine twigs, leaf-buds, bark, 
etc., and tell that they come from the tree. ) 




THE TALK. 



How do trees look in winter? Is it winter now? No, it is 
spring — early spring. In early spring how do the trees look? 
What have we found on the tree twigs this morning? How will 
the trees look in summer? How will they get all the pretty, 
green leaves they have in summer? From the leaf-buds, of 
course. The leaves — tiny, tiny ones, but a great many — are 
packed tightly away in all the buds on all the twigs, and when 



254 IN THE child's would. 

the spring rains have watered them and the spring sunshine has 
warmed them, the leaf-buds will open wider and wider each day, 
and finally spread out these little new' leaves to the air and sun 
and showers. 

The tall, thick part of the tree is called the trunk. (Show 
rings of growth and explain them; explain also that by counting 
these rings the age of the tree can be approximately determined.) 
Do you know any other parts of the tree? (Brandies, boughs, 
roots, etc.) 

Was the tree from which I broke this twig aliuays a big tree? 
No, it has been growing for many years. Long ago it was a tiny 
tree, and before that it was only a seed. The seed sent little 
roots down into the ground and pushed a little stem up through 
the ground, and so it became a tiny tree. It drank the water 
which the rain brouglit, and it breathed the fresh air which the 
winds brought, and rejoiced and grew green and strong in the 
warm sunshine, and grew larger and larger every year; and so it 
becaro.e a tall, thick tree, with many branches. (Speak of the 
roots, reaching out on all sides in the ground, as the branches 
do in the air, and of the firm support this gives the tree.) How 
does the tree drink water? Through the little spongy mouths 
at the tip ends of the roots. The water soaks through the roots 
to the stem or trunk, up through the trunk into the branches, 
and from the branches into the twigs and stems, and then into 
every leaf. The water which the roots drink is not just the 
same as when it fell from the clouds in rain, because it has 
soaked through the ground and now has in it just what the trees 
need. As it passes up into the tree it is called sap (crude sap). 
After it has flowed out to the leaves the (elaborated) sap flows 
back all through the tree again, and it helps the tree to grow; 
just as what we eat and drink helps our bodies to grow. 

A tree or plant cannot live and grow without sap. When vou 
break a flower from a plant and find the stem wet and juicy, it 
is because sap was flowing through the stem. At the time when 
the bluebird and the robin first come back, the sap starts, and 
flows up and down in the tree most busily, as if to hurry and 
make its thousands of leaves grow to hide the nests of the birds. 

People found out that they could make something very deli- 



IN THE child's WOELD. 255 

cious out of the sap of a certain kind of maple tree. It is called 
the sugar-maple tree. Does n't that make you think of some- 
thing? (Sugar-maple, maple sugar!) Surely, maple sugar is 
made of the sap of the sugar-maple tree! The farmer away off 
in the country cut a hole in the tree just deep enough to reach 
the sap as it flowed down, put a little wooden pipe into the hole, 
and hung a pail on the pipe. The sap flowed through the tree 
trunk, but when it came to the hole it ran out into the pipe. 
The farmer put the sap which he gathered from all his sugar 
maples into a big boiler and boiled it till the water went off in 
steam and left just the thick sugar. Should you like to see 
some? Should you like to taste some? You shall, at lunch 
time. The farmer does not take all of the sap. There is plenty 
left for the sugar-maple tree to use for its growing. 

There are other trees whose sap is useful for different pur- 
poses; but we will only speak of one other now — the india-rubber 
tree (the caoutchouc) — which grows in the hot countries. (Let 
the children name articles made from the sap of this tree. 

Speak of the beauty of trees, the grateful shade afforded by 
their foliage, the fruits, the vari-colored leaves of autumn, and 
then again of the usefulness of the sap to the tree and to us; 
and, lastly, of wood and its manifold uses.) 



256 isr THE child's world. 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Trees, .-_-... George B. Emerson 

Trees of North Eastern America, . . . . Newhall 

Succession of Forest Trees, - - - . . Thoreau 

Trees. How to tell some of them in Winter (" The Kin- 

derj^arten," Januaiy, 1891), - - - - E. G. Howe 

North American Trees, ----- Charles Sargent 

A Taste of Maine Birch, ----- John Burroughs 

Hiawatha's Canoe, ------ Longfellow 

Forest Hymn, ------- Bryant 

Planting of the Apple Tree, - ... Bryant 

The Birch Tree, 1 

The Oak, ( in 

The Beggar, f --..-- Lowell 

Rhoecus, j 

The Dryads, -.--_-- Leigh Hunt 

The Plucky Prince, - - . . '' St. Nicholas,'' 18SS 

The Wood Giant, ------- Wkiltier 

The Palm Tree, --.---- Whittier 

The Talking Oak, ------- Tennyson 

O Woodman spare that Tree! . - - - George P. Morris 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

The Miraculous Pitcher, ----- iV. Hawthorne 

The Little Tree that Wanted Other Leaves. 

A Story for the Staffs and Rings (" Kindergarten Stories 

and Morning Talks"), - - - - - S. E. Wiltse 



STORIES. 

THE FOUK APPLE TKEES. 

Many years ago there was a man who wanted to have a beau- 
tiful orchard. So he sent for some young trees, knowing that he 
should not have to wait so long for his orchard if he planted 
trees which had already had a good start in growing. 

Unfortunately, however, the trees arrived just at a time when 
the man was obliged to leave home for several days. He was 
afraid the trees would not live unless they were planted very 



IN THE child's AVOKLD. xIS? 

soon, and yet he could not stay to attend to them. Just then a 
man came along who wanted work. 

" Do you know how to set out trees?" asked the owner. 

''Yes, indeed/' said the other man. 

" Then you may stay and set out these young apple trees. I 
am going to have an orchard, and I have marked the places for 
the trees, with stones." 

By and by the owner of the trees came back and went to look 
at his orchard. He had been gone four days. 

" How is this! " said he; " only four trees set out?" 

"That is all I had time for," answered the other man. "1 
dug great holes, so that the roots might be spread out to the 
farthest tip; I hauled rich earth from the woods, so that the 
trees might have the best of food; I set the trees straight and 
filled the holes with care. This took all the time, but these four 
trees are well planted." 

" That is too slow a way for me," said the owner. "lean 
plant the whole orchard in one day." 

So he went to work and planted the other trees in his own 
way. He did not dig the holes large enough or deep enough, 
and so many of the little root-mouths were broken off when he set 
the trees into the holes. He did not take pains to get soft, rich 
earth to fill the holes, and so the trees could not have as good 
food as they needed. 

The poor little trees lived for a while, but they were never 
very strong, never bore very good apples, and at last were cut 
down. All that was left of the orchard were the four trees 
which had been planted with such faithfulness and care. 

These four trees are now older than an old man, and have 
been bearing delicious great apples for many, many years. 

As Dr. E. E. Hale says, when he tells the story, these four apple 
trees stand as a memorial of what it is to do a thin^ well. 



THE STORY OF ECHO. 

Among the trees of the forest, and where the cool streams run, 
beautiful wood-nymphs used to have their homes. They loved to 
play in the flickering sunlight and under the dancing leaves, and 



258 IN THE child's avoklu. 

people sometimes caught sight of the gleam of their white feet as 
they dipped them in the rushing waters of the brook. 

There was one gay nymph named Echo, whose chief amuse- 
ment it was to play tricks upon, and to tease her companions. 
" Daphne! Oh, come here! — quick — just seel" she would some- 
times call, and when Daphne came running to the spot, eager to 
see what there was to be seen. Echo would have vanished as com- 
pletely as if she had never been there — until presently a stifled 
laugh showed her hiding place. 

Echo was, too, a great chatterer; she never listened long to 
any one else, but was sure to talk a great deal herself. One day 
she came upon a shepherd sitting on a rock, and, watching his 
sheep as they cropped the grass below, she noticed that some of 
the sheep were beginning to stray from the flock, and, thinking 
this a fine chance for a bit of fun, she at once began to laugh and 
talk with the shepherd, to keep him from thinking of his charge. 
Presently not one of the flock was left in sight, and then, with a 
laugh at the dismayed face of the shepherd. Echo, too, ran away 
and left him. 

At first the other nymphs used to laugh at her nonsense, and 
enjoyed the fun as much as Echo herself did; but as she Avas 
continually playing her tricks upon everybody in season and out 
of season, and as the tricks, like that she played on the shepherd, 
were often unkind ones, her companions gradually came to leave 
her out of their sports and plays, and after a time, as she did not 
mend her ways, avoided her altogether. One day it happened that 
Juno (Hera), the queen of the gods, came into the forest, and 
Echo troubled her so much with her foolish chattering that, 
finally, Juno declared a just punishment upon the teasing nymph. 
*' Since Echo talks and jokes only to weary every one,'' Juno said, 
" she shall no longer be able to speak unless some one first speaks 
to her. She shall have power to answer, but never to begin a 
conversation." 

Echo, ashamed and sorry, went away into the deep woods, 
where ever after she dwelt alone. She was seldom seen by men, 
but a traveler, once, coming out of the wood, told how he had 
lost his way at nightfall, and had called loudly, hoping some one 
might hear and come to his aid; he seemed to hear a faint answer, 



IN THE child's WORLD. 259 

he said, but as he could not tell whence it came, he called again, 

saying "Comeherel" "'Here," the voice answered. '"Where are 

you?" he called. *' Where are you ? " replied the voice. Finally, 

out of patience, "Away with you I" he shouted. '"Away with 

you," came back with an angry sound. After that he heard no 

more, nor, although he searched the wood, was he able to find a 

trace of any one. 

Echo's voice is still heard sometimes in lonely places — but only 

when some one calls to her; — if the call is a laughing one, she 

laughs back; if it is sad, she answers mournfully, but, merry or 

sad, she never shows herself. 

F. H. 



THE TREE. 



The Tree's early leaf-buds were bursting their brown: 
"Shall 1 take them away?" said the Frost, sweeping down. 
" No, let them alone 
Till the blossoms have grown," 
Prayed the Tree, while it trembled from rootlet to crown. 

The Tree bore its blossoms, and all the birds sung: 
"Shall I take them away?" said the Wind, as it swung. 
" No, let them alone 
Till the berries have grown," 
Said the Tree, while its leaflets, quivei'ing, hung. 

The Tree bore its fruit in the midsummer glow: 
Said the girl, " May I gather thy sweet berries now?" 
" Yes, all thou canst see: 
Take them; all are for thee," 
Said the Tree, while it bent down its laden boughs low. 

Bjorsterne Bjoknsen. 



THE MAPLE TREE'S SURPRISE. 

When David Wylie went to live in the country he did not know 
which way to turn, there was so much to see and so much to hear. 

He coasted on the snow, and skated on the ice, and watched 
the winter birds, and helped to feed the horses and cows and hens 
and chickens. Just back of the house was a grove of great maple 



260 IN THE CHILT/S AVORLl). 



trees, where he liked to play when the snow was not too deep. 
In the midst of this grove was a small log house. David often 
asked his Papa what this house was for, and Papa always replied: 
"Wait until spring, and you shall see; those big maple trees have 
a surprise in store for you ! '' 

One morning in early spring, when the sun shone very warm, 
and the snow was beginning to melt, Papa said: "David, after 
breakfast you will find me at the log house;" then he hurried 
away. David soon finished his breakfast and started off in great 
haste, but stopped short at the first maple tree, for there hung a 
bright, shining, tin pail! He wondered how it came there, and 
started to take it down, when he saw that it was hanging on a 
spout, which was driven into the tree-trunk. From the spout was 
trickling something which looked like water as it " drip, dripped " 
into the pail below. As he looked about, he saw that every tree 
in the grove had one, two or even three pails hung on spouts! 
This must be the surprise, but what was it for? 

Off he went to the log house; and there he found that his father 
had built a fire, and over the fire was swinging a great iron kettle. 
"Papa," said he, "why is the water running out of the trees? 
What is the kettle for? Why have you built the fire? '' " Well," 
replied Papa, "' I am very busy, but here comes Mamma, who can 
tell you all about it, while you watch the rest of us work." 

Then Mamma told him how the maple trees had been sleeping 
and resting all winter, and how the Avarm sunshine and soft 
spring rains had wakened them, and set the sweet sap running 
from the roots away up to the highest branches. " But the trees 
do not need all of the sap," said Mamma, "so Papa has driven 
these spouts in, that he may catch some of the sap as it hurries 
through the tree-trunk. And what you thought was water was 
this juice or sap of the tree trickling into the i)ails." Just then 
up came two or three men with buckets full of sap which they 
had gathered from the tin pails; they poured it into the kettle, 
but Papa first gave Mamma and David some to drink. It tasted 
like water with a little sugar in it, and David did n^t care for it 
at all. 

They then watched the sap in the kettle as it boiled and bub- 
bled away; and every little while Papa skimmed it with a big 




Gathering Sap 



262 IN THE child's avorld. 

spoon, till by and by it was clear. David said, '' It smells like 
maple syrup!" and Papa replied, "That's just what it is! " He 
next poured it into big pans and little pans, and middle-sized 
pans, and it looked thick, and brown, and sweet, and David knew 
that when it was cool and hard it would be maple sugar! 

Then Mamma said: "There are ever so many kinds of maple 
trees, but only this kind gives us sugar. Now what do you suppose 
we call it?" David thought its name must be sugar-maple, and 
sure enough it was! And now he wonders if there are any other 
children whom the sugar-maple is waiting to surprise. 

F. E. Mann. 



PUSSY WILLOW. 

Pussy Willow wakened 
From her Winter nap 

For the frolic Spring Bncze 
On her door would tap. 

" It is chilly weather 

Though the sun feels good; 
I will wrap up warmly; 
Wear my furry hood." 

Mistress Pussy Willow 
Opened wide her door; 

Never had the sunshine 
Seemed so bright before. 

Never had the brooklet 
Seemed so full of cheer; 
" Good morning, Pussy Willow, 
Welcome to you, dear!" 

Never guest was quainter; — 

Pussy came to town 
In a hood of silver gray 

And a coat of brown. 

Happy little children 
Cried with laugh and shout, 
"Spring is coming, coming, 
Pussy Willow's out!" 

Kate L. Brown. 
The American Teacher.'" 



SPRING. 



To THE Teacher :- 



(The prevalent custom of talking about the "glad new day " and its 
name each morning, often noting also the current month and year, affords 
an easy opportunity for questioning the children upon the whole round 
of the seasons, thus leading to a talk upon Spring. ) 




i»?i'f«*' 



THE TALK. 

Jack Frost and North Wind will soon be gone altogether and 
Winter with them. How has the earth looked during the Winter? 
The ground brown and hard, or covered with snow and ice, trees 
leafless, no grass, no flowers, few birds. But Spring is coming. 
What will the spring-time bring? Grass, leaves on the trees, 
pussywillows, flowers, birds, etc., etc. Will the flowers come 
while the ground is frozen and the air so cold? What will thaw 
the ground and warm the air? Have we not had sunshine all 
Winter? Yes, but we shall have more sunshine now. 

Do you remember how dark it was in the Winter mornings? 
Sometimes we needed lamplight or gaslight at breakfast. Perhaps 
you remember, too, how dark the Winter afternoons were! 
Towards Spring we have sunshine earlier in the mornings and 
later in the afternoons, so that the days are longer and brighter 
and warmer. 

What will the warm Spring sunshine do? Can sunshine alone 
get the earth ready and make the flowers grow? What will the 
rain do? Which wind brings the rain? What other winds are 



264 IN THE child's world. 

about in Spring? What is the name of the Avind which comes 
from the warm lands? Where have the birds been all Winter? 
Which birds are the first to come back to us in the Spring? What 
will they be busy about soon? Did you know that birds some- 
times like to weave bits of string or worsted in with the grasses 
and straws of which they make their nests? (If the kindergarten 
is in a likely neighborhood for nest-building, let the children 
place some bits of string or thread where the birds will find them. ) 

Which flowers come first? Tell the colors of each. 

Are we glad that spring is coming? 

(Speak of the gladness the season brings to all: to the cattle 
who rejoice in going to the fields once more ; to the birds who are 
so happy in their nest-building ; to the animals and insects who 
have been curled up in hiding somewhere, waiting for warm 
weather; even to the fishes who leap joyously in the waters, no 
longer icebound. 

We must not forget to sing the song of the farmer and talk a 
little about his spring work, of gathering sap, and plowing ;iiid 
planting. ) 



I?f THE child's world. 



365 



TEACHER'S READING, 



A Year of Miracle, 
Spring ("Sharp Eyes""), 
April (" Birds and Poets ' 
The Bluebird I 

The Return of the Birds i 
Prolocjue to Canterbury Tales, { 
The Flower and the Leaf, ( 

Grass, . - . 

The Voice of the Grass, 
Spring ("In Memoriam "), 
Suthin' in the Pastoral Line, } 
To the Dandelion, j 

Nature and the Poets, 
"^arly Spring, 

Home Thoughts from Abroad, 
Spring has Come, 
Daffy-down-dilly, 
The Daffodils, - 
The Daffodils, 

The Secrets of the Sprincr, ) 
March Winds, \ 

March, . . - - 



Wake Robin"), 



\V. C. Gannett 

W. H. Gibson 

JoJni Burroughs 

John Burr ughs 

Chaucer 

Emily Dickinson 

Sarah Roberts 

Tennyson 

Lniocll 

Keats 

- Wordsworth 

- U. Broivniny 
O. W. Holmes 

Warner 

- Wordsworth 

Herrick 

- Nora Perry 
Celia Thdxter 



My Friend in Green, 



FOR THE CHILDREN. 



Holmes' Third Header 



STORIES. 

SPRING AND HER HELPERS. 

One day in March old Winter received a message from Father 
Time, saying that Spring was ready to take charge of the land and 
that Winter might go away for his long vacation, as soon as he 
liked. 

Winter immediately pulled out his pocket calendar. " Surely, 
surely," said he, "I must be off in a day or two. I suppose 



26<5 IX THE child's world. 

every oue will be glad/*' he continued, a little mournfully; •' they 
are always in a hurry for me to go ! " 

'''But they are glad to see you come again/' whistled North 
Wind. '' Don't you remember how joyful the children were over 
the first snow and ice? And how glad the plants were to have a 
chance to rest? And how sleepy some of the animals were get- 
ting? They would miss you dreadfully if you didn't take your 
turn — even more than they know, perhaps." 

''Very true, friend," said old Winter, brightening, " Spring 
and Summer and Autumn could not do their work if I neglected 
mine. So I '11 go as soon as Spring appears, and rest and be ready 
to come back in December." 

A few days after this AVinter started on his journey, and 
Spring became the ruler of the land. Scarcely any one realized 
the change at the time, for many of Winter's belongings were 
left lying about, and Spring could not do her work all at once. 
Nor could she do it without help, for her work was nothing more 
nor less than to make the earth beautiful, and Winter had cer- 
tainly left it looking very bare and dreary. But I assure you 
Spring knew whom to ask for help. First she went to the Sun. 
" Good Sun," said she, "pray, send me more and more of your 
light and heat every day, if you will; for the earth is hard and 
bare and cold." 

The great Sun said not a word, but smiled brightly from his 
home of golden fire, for great companies of his messengers, the 
sunbeams, had already trooped down to the earth with permis- 
sion to go earlier each morning and stay later each night, that 
they might help Spring to make the eartli beautiful. 

But Spring knew that she and the sunbeams could not do it 
all. 80 she spoke to King j5^o1us. " Good ^Eolus," said she, 
" North AVind has served Winter well, but he cannot do my 
kind of work. I pray you keep him at home now and let me 
have his three brothers — the gentle South Wind to be with me 
most of the time, and East Wind and West Wind to help when 
I need them." 

King ^-Eolus had been expecting this request, for Spring made 
it every year; and there was already a great bustle in his rocky 
caverns as the three brothers began to bestir themselves. South 



IN THE child's WORLD. 267 

Wind sent :i little breeze as u mt^ssenger to Spring, to say that 
they would be ready whenever she called them, and would gladly 
help her to make the earth beautiful. 

Then began a busy time indeed for Spring and her helpers. 
The sunbeams worked with never a sound. They shone here 
and they shone there. They melted the ice and snow, and 
coaxed vapor from the surface of the water and carried it up to 
the blue sky, where it floated in downy white clouds. They 
warmed the earth and gilded the waters and made the sky bluer 
than ever. 

The Winds worked, too, each in his own way. When Spring 
saw that rain was needed, she called East Wind, and he imme- 
diately emptied the clouds of all that the sunbeams had saved. 
*■' Peoiale make a great mistake when they think that the sun- 
beams and I have nothing to do with each other," said he; "for 
if the sunbeams did n't bring up the vapor for me, and if I 
did n't empty the clouds for them, how would the earth have 
rain, I wonder? To be sure, I always carry some with me, but I 
should not have enough without that which is stored away in 
the clouds." 

East AYind hovered about, seeming to be everywhere at once 
in his big gray cloak, while the raindrops were hurrying down 
to the earth. They ran here and they rolled there. They 
softened the ground, they gave water to all the thirsty roots, 
helped the trees and other plants to make their sap, washed the 
dust off of everything and filled up the little brooks. The rain- 
drops also unfastened the coats of the seeds that were in the 
ground, and loosened the covers of the pussy willows and the 
furry hoods which the ferns had worn all winter; and, with their 
tapping and drumming, they really awakened the grasses and 
some of the flowers, but the sleepy things only stirred a little, 
saying drowsily: " Spring does not want us to get up yet; it is 
too cold and too early." 

Spring herself shivered a little whenever East Wind was 
around, but he and the raindrops were so useful that she bore 
the cold and dampness very willingly. '^ Thanks, little Rain- 
drops, and to you, too. East Wind," said she. " You have done 
your Avork well. And now the sunbeams must take their turn 



'4(JS IS THE child's world. 

again. South Wind, too. will find something to do, I dare say." 
South Wind was I'eady at the first mention of his name. He 
had come by way of the sunny lands where the birds live in the 
winter, and had brought a few back with him — two or three 
bluebirds and robins. 

"You dear things," said Spring, caressingly. " I can work 
so much better now that you have come. Your singing cheers 
me on. Fly abroad now, and let the peojDle hear your glad songs 
und catch a glimpse of you now and then." 

Spring gazed fondly after them. " Eobin is such a cheery 
fellow," said she; "and Bluebird is so bonny in his sky-tinted 
feathers. No other birds are quite as dear to me, and I am sure 
they carry joy wherever they go." 

" The joy they give is because they sing of you," whispered 
South AVind. 

While Spring welcomed the birds, South Wind had not been 
idle. His first work was to roll up the big gray cloak which 
East Wind was trailing after him. 

" Take that with you, please, brother," said he; " I have no 
use for it, and, in fact, it is rather in my way." After that he 
and the sunbeams worked together, warming and drying the air 
and the ground, and coaxing all the growing things to make 
haste. 

The South Wind whistled sweet, merry little tunes, while the 
sunbeams touched the seeds and the half-awake leaves and 
flowers, and they started up, one after another, fresher and pret- 
tier than ever "from their long, long wintry nap." 

But Spring's work was not yet finished. She called for West 
Wind. He knew just what to do, and he did it well. He blew 
here and he blew there. He swept the hillsides and meadows, 
and took away the old leaves which had been such useful 
blankets for the plants all winter. Then he and the suntsams, 
for they always work with him, went into the farthest corner of 
the woods and dried the soaked mosses and tree trunks, and 
greeted the bears, woodchucks and squirrels who were running 
about to stretch themselves after keeping still all winter. West 
Wind whistled a louder and jollier tune than South Wind had. 
The sunbeams shone their brightest ; the smooth waters flashed 



IN THE child's WORLD. 269 

splendor; the rushing streams murmured music; fishes darted- 
about under the clear ripples; frogs sang their gurgling song; 
insects sported Joyously in the air, and birds warbled to each 
other everywhere. 

Spring looked and listened, and looked again over the land 
which Winter had left so bare and silent and dreary. Soft, green 
grass covered the ground and blossoms beautified the orchards, 
while on every tree tiny leaf-banners fluttered and rustled. All 
her pretty flowers — and who has prettier flowers than Spring? — 
stood in their places — daffodils, crocuses, tulips, dandelions, 
violets — none were missing. 

Spring gazed with joy. Her work was done, for the world 
was x-adiant with beauty. 

Emilie Poulsson. 



THE MEETING OF THE WINDS. 

The North and the South Winds met one day in a field beside 
;i river. The North Wind had brought some snow the night 
before, but the South Wind blew soon after, and melted nearly all 
of it. Only a few white patches were left, here and there, along 
the sunny banks of the stream. 

As soon as the winds came near each other, the South Wind 
said: " Good morning, brother; I am glad to meet you, though 
your cold breath quite chills me.'^ 

" But I am not glad to meet you," answered the North Wind. 
" AVhy did you melt my snow so quickly? Could you not let it 
lie for one day?" 

" The time has come for the grass and flowers, you know, 
brother, and I must be at work," said the gentle South Wind. 

" There was no need of such haste," said the burly North 
Wind. " When friends meet, they should be polite." 

" I have to call up the daisies and waken the roses," said the 
South Wind, "and make all the fields green by the first of May; 
I have no time to lose. Look at yonder meadow, how brown it 
is; and at these trees, how bare! Scarcely a fly is buzzing in the 



270 IN THE child's WORLD. 

sunshine, and not a tortoise has yet crept out of his hole in the 
ground." 

" I do not care for 3four daisies and your tortoises," muttered 
the North Wind; "you want to hurry me off, but I will not go 
so soon." 

" Have you not had the whole winter to yourself?" asked the 
South Wind — "freezing the brooks, driving away all my birds 
and butterflies, and covering the fields and roads and bushes and 
barns with snow? If I chanced to come then to pay you a little- 
visit some bright morning, how quickly you drove me away 
again! Never might I stay till the sun went down." 

" The winter is my time," said the North Wind; "it belongs 
to me, and you had no right to come then," 

"And the spring is my time," said the South Wind; "you 
know the law is that I must have the fields now." 

" You think a great deal of yourself," said the North Wind, 
angrily, " but I am stronger than you. I can fly farther and see 
things you never see. Where do you think I came from this 
morning?" 

" Tell me; I cannot guess," whispered the South Wind. 

" I came all the way from the icy pole, where the sea is frozen 
over, and the land is covered with snow that never melts. The 
white bear lives there; I saw one but a fe"w hours ago, watching 
for fish by a hole that he had broken through the ice." 

" But you never saw my home or the strange sights that are 
there," said the South AVind. " I come from the far-off torrid 
zone, where the snow never falls, and the frost never kills the 
buds and flowers. There the panther lives. I passed by one 
last night in the forest, lying out on the branch of a great tree 
watching for his prey, that he might spring down on it as it 
passed beneath." 

"But I see the Esquimaux," answered the North Wind, "in 
their strange skin dresses, living in houses of snow. They fight 
the fierce walrus on the ice, and spear the fur-covered seal from 
their little boats that dance on the waves. I watch the Northern 
Lights, so red and beautiful, shooting up like bright flames in 
the sky, and the night is almost as bright as the day. Then the 
Esquimau harnesses his dogs and the Laplander his reindeer, and 



IN THE child's WORLD. 271 

they travel swiftly over the frozen plain. Yesterday I blew with 
all my might until I loosened a field of ice and sent it out to sea. 
A white bear was on it, and he sailed on his ice-boat across the 
sea to Iceland. As I passed the steep, high rocks on the shores 
of Greenland, I saw the eider ducks brooding there. Each one 
had lined her nest with soft down plucked from her own breast. 
Then I frightened them with my hoarse voice, and thousands of 
them — yes, hundreds of thousands — rose up in the air like a 
cloud." 

" But let me ask you," murmured the South Wind, **did you 
ever hear among your icebergs and frozen waters, the song of 
the oriole and mocking bird that I hear every day in the woods 
where I live? You look at your Esquimaux in their snow 
houses, but I peep in at the hut of the Indian that stands under 
the forest shades, or I blow against the sail of his canoe and waft 
it up some quiet river, where the trees grow thick on each side 
and meet overhead. The red flamingo wades out into the water, 
and the monkeys and parrots chatter among the high branches. 
I see the boa constrictor coiled among the roots on the shore and 
watch the alligator floating down the stream. My home is 
among the orange trees and in the fields Avhere the sugar cane 
grows. There I lie still and sleep, or awake to go forth on my 
journeys over the earth, not to freeze up the ground and make 
barren and bare, but to cover it with green, and bring out the 
buds and flowers in every bush and tree." 

While the Winds were talking in this way, the Eiver, which 
had been listening to them, said: " Why do you thus boast and 
provoke each other? Why not speak gently and kindly of the 
wonderful things you have seen? You would not change homes, 
would you?" 

"No, indeed," each one replied; ''I love my own the best." 

" Then," said the Eiver, "what good can come of disputing 
when both are satisfied? As for me, I love you both. I am 
glad for the North Wind to blow cold, and cover me with ice in 
the winter, so that the merry skaters can come and glide swiftly 
over my smooth surface. And I love the South Wind to breathe 
softly in the spring, and make my banks green again,. and waken 
the frogs along my shore, and bring the fisherman in his boat, 



372 IN THE child's world. 

and the boys to swim. Let us all be friends, then, and love each 
other, and be satisfied with what our good Creator has given us, 
and be happy in pleasing him." 

Then the North Wind said: " I am willing to be friends again. 
It is true that the spring is your time, gentle South Wind. I 
will not stay to nip your opening flowers, but will fly away to 
my cold home." 

And the South Wind said : '* Forgive me if I was rude, brother. 
When November shall come once more, I will leave the fields 
and woods to you. Take this sprig of evergreen to remember 
me by, and may it not fade till we meet again. Farewell." 

Charles Foster. 

''New Light on Old Paths," Chas. Foster Pub. Co., Phila., Pa. 



THE LITTLE WORM THAT WAS GLAD TO BE ALIVE. 

Once there was a little worm about as long as the nail of my 
thumb, and no larger round than a big darning needle. This 
little worm lived in a little house that he had made for himself 
in the ground, just big enough to hold him when he rolled him- 
self up like a little ball with his head sticking out. There were 
no windows nor doors in his house, except one on top which was 
his door to go in at and his window to look out of. When he 
had made this house he was tired, and crawled into it and curled 
himself up and went to sleep and slept all night. 

In the morning the sun rose and spread his beams all over the 
world, and one of the bright sunbeams shone into the window 
of the little worm's house and touched his eyes * and waked him, 
and he popped up his head and looked out and saw that it was 
very pleasant in the garden, and he thought to go out to walk. 



* The following quotations' are for the help of the teacher who wishes to make Miss 
Peabody's exquisite story truer to nature: 

'• As these animals have no eyes, we must suppose that the light passes through their 
skins, and in some manner excites their cerebral ganglia." 

•'Worms are poorly provided with sense organs, for they cannot be said to see, 
although they can just distinguish between light and darkness; they are completely 
deaf, and have only a feeble power of smell: the sense of touch alone is well developed." 
• Charles Darwin. 

From " The Formation of Vegetable Mould through the Action of Worms. 




The Boy Ran on the Other Side of the Path. 273 



274 IN THE child's world. 

He squirmed himself up out of his hole, and, because he had 
no feet, he crept along the garden path. The warm beams of 
the sun put tlieir arms all round his cold little body and made it 
as warm as could be, and the sunbeams went into his little mites 
of eyes and filled him all full of light, and the songs of the birds 
went into his little mites of ears and filled him all up with music, 
and the sweet smell of hundreds of flowers went up that little 
mite of a nose and filled him up with their perfumes. And so 
the little worm went creeping along, as glad as he could be that 
he was alive. 

Now in the house that stood in that garden lived a little boy 
about four years old; and when the morning came, the sunbeams 
had gone into the window of his nursery and waked him, and he 
was washed and dressed, and had his breakfast of bread and 
milk, and then his mamma took him to the door that led down 
the steps of the piazza into the garden, and told him he might 
go down the path and have a good run to make himself warm. 
So down he ran. 

Now, if that little boy should put his strong foot on that dear 
little worm, it would break him all to pieces; but that little boy 
would not do such a cruel thing for the world ! He saw the little 
worm creeping along, so glad to be alive, and he ran on the 
other side of the path; and the little worm nibbled a blade of 
grass and drank a little dew for his breakfast, and then he felt 
tired, and went creeping back, full of good food, to the little 
hole that was his home, and curled himself up like a little ball 
and went to sleep. 

Elizabeth P. Peabody. 

In " Lectures to Kindergartners," D. C. Heath & Co. 



A SURPKISE. 



Mr. Chipmunk was playing among the trees one lovely autnmn 
day, when he came across such a pile of delicious looking acorns! 

" AAliat a feast! " he cried. " I '11 cover these acorns and keep 
them until spring, for I have nuts enough in my storeroom for 
i-nv winter's use; when tliev are gone I '11 come for these." 



IN THE CHILD S WOULD. 



Tlie little acorns heard him talking to himself, and laughed 
softly: " Ha, ha, Mr. Chipmunk! Spring is a long way off, and 
you cannot be so sure of finding your acorns then. Mother Oak 
Tree has told us that if we go to bed like good children, and lie 
very still, something beautiful and wonderful will happen to us 
when the warm spring days come.^' 

The little acorns lay very quiet where Mr. Chipmunk had put 
them. Soon they could hear the cold winds blowing, but the 
brilliant leaves, falling, made a beautiful warm coverlet for them. 

Then Jack Frost came, and the snow fell softly on their bed 
like white wool. The wind, singing through the trees, lulled 
them to sleep, and they had a long, long nap. 

When they awoke it was warm and sunny. 

" It must be nearly time for us to throw off these heavy 
blankets and stretch up where we can see the sky, for I can feel 
the sun^s warm rays," said one. ''And I can move!" cried 
another. "Oh!" exclaimed a third, "I have burst my brown 
shell, and now I am reaching up! " 

Soon the little roots had grown down deep into the earth, and 
the tiny green shoots had pushed their way through the dark- 
ness to such a glorious world — a world so different from the 
cold, dark earth they had known before. 

There were beautiful flowers and green grasses all around 
them and tiny new leaves on the trees, and birds singing on the 
branches, and the acorn shoots hardly knew Mother Oak Tree, 
she was so gay in her new spring gown of green. 

The little shoots were very happy, for they knew that they 
were to grow taller and more beautiful each year, like their 
grand and stately mother who stood near by. 

Mr. Chipmunk came running along one day soon after this, 
looking for his acorns. When he reached the place where the 
baby oaks grew he looked in amazement, for he was sure that 
they stood in the very spot where he had hidden his nuts. 

*' Well," he said, after thinking a long, long time, "perhaps 

some hungry little chipmunk found my acorns and carried them 

home. But who can have put all these green things here, J 

wonder?" 

Sue Clarke Kimball. 



FRIEDRICH FROEBEL 

To TiiK Tkachek: — 

The most ajipealing and exiiressive image of Frrebel "which has been 
preserved for us is that of the tall old man, with long gray hair parted in 
the middle and his old-iashioned attire adding to the plainness of his 
aspect, leading a troop of village children up on the hill to play — he him- 
self being a very child in simplicitj^ and freedom as he joined in the 
game, while yet a seer in discernment of its meaning and a priest in 
ardent devotion to his purpose and principles. 

But we have other interesting portraiture of the founder of the kinder- 
garten, delineated by his contemporaries; and if we turn our gaze toward 
these images of Fro3bel from time to time, we shall find ourselves doing 
his work in fuller sympathy and with quickened comprehension. The 
lonely, unhappy little child, perplexed at the discords in the lives about 
him, is a sad picture. But how noble the lesson so plainly taught when 
we read how the remembrance of the ungratified longings of his own 
early life bore the fruit of plans for the amelioration of such ills in the 
lives of other children. 

So, too, his glimpse of the harmony and beauty of nature, disclosed by 
an elder brother, was remembered for the benefit of childhood, and his 
system, based upon natural laws, keeps the child in close and loving 
communion with nature. Frcebel was extremely fond of flowers, even 
to the day of his death, when he asked for them toward the very last. 
He had before said to some of his friends: " Take care of my flowers, 
and spare my weeds — I have learned much from them." The sunset 
was a favorite sight and almost every evening he resorted to a hill- 
top to gaze at the trailing splendor of the departing light. Indeed, 
Frffibel was keenly sensitive to all beauty, whether in nature or art. It 
is related that although he was usually (^uite obscure in the presentation 
of his theories of education, yet that when speaking to the Grand Duke 
of Weimar upon them he succeeded in stating them with great clearness, 
and attributed this success to the beautiful architecture of the dining 
hall with its marble pillars and vaulted roof. "I felt as if I were in a 
temple," he said, afterwards. 

This sensitiveness was not confined to beautiful sights alone. Froebel 
perceived with extreme keenness and enjoyment the distinctive fra- 
grance of wines, food and plants. A man whose senses were less deli- 
cate might perhaps have omitted from his scheme of education the 
special cultivation of the senses, not realizing the value and pleasure 
derived from such cultivation. 




. \ W .. .1 A,\\v.,..ilii-feiI.Ll' ,.^i 

■'The Sunset was a Favokite sight."' 2 



278 IX THE child's world. 

Thus whatever he had or lacked tended toward the perfecting of his 
educational plans and was made to serve the good of others. 

His love of children always aroused a corresponding love on their part. 
They would run to meet him in the village streets, clinging to him and 
following him about. "I see in every child the possibility of a perfect 
man," he said to the Baroness Von Biilow. What a rebuke to the hope- 
lessness which sometimes attacks us concerning some small reprobate! 

Froebel's estimate of the requirements of a teacher were very high, 
and he felt himself so far below his own standard that he returned to the 
University at Gottingen for more study, having saved a little money ; 
and again, after the close of the war, in which he served, we find him in 
the mineralogical museum at Berlin, resuming his studies that he may 
be better fitted for teaching. He craved classical and scientific knowl- 
edge, and history, anthropology, theoretical pedagogy and ethics at- 
tracted him no less strongly. He labored indefatigably to repair any 
defects in his own education. His humility was beautiful, making him 
ready to confess ignorance and to learn from everything and everybody 
— even from his normal pupils or kindergarten children — concerning 
some new application of his idea, although the idea itself he guarded as 
a sacred trust. 

To a man of Froebel's gentle nature and peaceful habits the soldier's 
life could not have been attractive ; nevertheless, patriotism led him to 
respond to a call for soldiers, although there were various reasons why 
he need not have served. He felt it his duty the more strongly in his 
capacity as teacher, for, as he says : "It was hardly possible for me to 
conceive how any young man, capable of bearing arms, could think of 
becoming an educator of children whose country he would not defend 
with his blood or his life. It was impossible for me to imagine how a 
young man who should not be ashamed then to hang back like a coward, 
could later, without shame, and without incurring the scorn and derision 
of his pupils, stir them to any great thing, to any action requiring effort 
or self-sacrifice." 

During this soldier life a friendship of the most fervent and enduring 
kind was formed with two of his comrades, one of whom afterwards 
continued Frajbel's work. This friend, Middendorff, relates an inter- 
esting anecdote of this time: " Once when their Jager corps was lying 
in a ditch behind a hedge, and under fire of the enemy, whose balls were 
passing over them, Froebel turned to Middendorff, who was lying behind 
him, and asked him whether he knew how many seconds faster the mus- 
ket balls moved than the balls from the flint locks. While he was in 
immediate danger of his life, Froebel had the coolness to solve this 
mathematical problem." The secret of this intrepidity was probably in 
Froebel's conception of death, which he defined as "an enlargement 
of life." 

Another anecdote which Middendorff tells shows Froebel's simple and 
generous impulsivenebs. " Froebel came home one day much heated by 



IX THt; child's wuklo. 279 

a walk in the neic^hborhood, and wished to change his clothes. When 
his wife opened the wardrobe she exclaimed with alarm: 'The closet is 
almost empty! Thieves have been here.' Frojbel answered, laughing: 
' 1 am the thief.' And he then told her that the inhabitants of a neigh- 
boring village which had been destroyed by fire had been there that 
morning and asked for assistance, and as he had no money, he had felt 
obliged to give them some of his effects." 

One cannot wonder that such a man did not achieve financial success 
in life. He was surely akin to our own Agassiz, who had "no time to 
make money," and who preserved under all circumstances the integrity 
of his life-purpose — "the ennobling of humanity." 



THE TALK. 

(Call attention to the things which make the kindergarten 
room attractive — the windows where the merry sunshine enters, 
the plants, birds or fishes, if any, the flag, the children's work, 
which is often an effective decoration and one much appreciated 
by them, and to the pictures.) 

To-day we will talk about Froebel, for his birthday is coming 
in a few days, and all the little kindergarten children should 
know about him. 

Do you remember how the bells were rung and the guns fired 
and the flags were put out on Washington's birthday? Frcebel's 
birthday will not be kept in that way, but we will have a happy 
time in kindergarten, because it was Froebel who thought about 
the kindergarten and planned it all. 

Washington lived in what country? In America — the country 
we live in and sing about when we sing " My country, 'tis of 
thee." Froebel lived in Germany, a land away over the sea, so 
he was a German. He loved little children, and wanted them 
to grow strong and wise and good, and so he thought of having 
kindergartens where they could work and play and learn and 
be happy. 

What do you like to do in kindergarten? (Draw out as many 
expressions as you can from the children, and tell them that 
Froebel planned all these pleasant things.) 

Would you like to hear some stories about him? 

When Friedrich Froebel was a little boy he was very lonely. 



280 IN THE child's WORLD. 

His brothers were away from home, so there were no children 
to play with him; and, worse than that, he had no mother to 
love him and take care of him. He had a father, but his father 
was a very busy man, and did not have time to play with his 
little boy or to talk to him very much. Do you not think poor 
little Friedrich must have been very lonely? 

He used to look out of the window and see the men at work, 
on a church which was near his home, and as he watched them 
he wanted to build something, too; but he had no blocks, so he 
tried to build with the chairs and footstools and such things 
which were in the room. But poor little Friedrich! He was so 
little that the chairs were heavy and clumsy for him, and, be- 
sides, they fell over as often as he tried to put them on top of 
each other. He could not build nicely with them at all. 

By and by, when he was grown up, he remembered this and 
planned nice, smooth blocks for little children, so that they 
could build churches, or gates, or towers, or pigeon houses, or 
anything they liked. 

When Friedrich Avas ten years old he went to live Avith his 
uncle, who loved him dearly. Here he went to school and had 
a great many playmates, so he was not unhappy and lonely as 
he had been before. 

After this he had to go to work. He wanted to be a farmer 
because he liked to be out of doors and plant things and watch 
their growing; but he learned to be a surveyor, too, and was also 
a soldier for a while. 

At one time the soldiers had to march a long way in the hot 
sun and grew so tired that they threw everything they could out 
of their knapsacks to make them less heavy to carry. Froebel 
was tired, too, but as he walked along he noticed many beautiful 
and interesting things, as he always did when out of doors. 
When he saw curious stones or pretty mosses or flowers or leaves, 
he picked them up and j^ut them in his knapsack. The stones 
were heavy, of course, but Froebel wanted to study them as 
well as the mosses and flowers. When the soldiers reached their 
resting place Froebel took out all his treasures and showed them 
to the other men, and they all enjoyed hearing his wonderful 
stories about the plants and rocks. 



IN THE CHILI'S 'WORLD. 



^81 



After lie ha.l been a soldier, Froebel became a teacher; and 
then it was that he planned the kindergarten. Shall you not 
like to talk about him and sing a birthday song about him? 
And will you try to remember that it was Friedrich Froebel who 
planned the kindergarten for us because he loved li'ttle chil- 
dren and wanted them to be busy and happy, and to grow in 
three ways, as we have said — to grow strong, to grow wise, to 
grow good ! 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Life of FrcBbel, ----- Alex. Hanschmann 

Eeminiscences of Froebel, - - Baroness von Marenholtz-tiulow 

The Kindergarten and the School (by Four Workers). 

Friedrich Froebel, ------ Kriege 

Fro3bel and the Kindergarten System, - - - Joseph Payne. 

Froebel and Education by Self-Activity, - - - H. C. Boioe.n 



SONG FOR FRCEBEL'S BIRTHDAY . 

Let us sing to-day with gladness 
Of a friend to childhood dear, 

One who thought and labored for us 
And whose name we honor here. 

Lovingly he planned for children 
Happy work and merry play; 

Let us, then, be glad and grateful 
As we think of him to-day. 



The Kindergarten MugaHne.'' 



EmILIE P0UL980N. 




BIRDS. 



To THK Teacher: — 



(Let the children tell the signs of Spring as spoken of in the Spring 
talk and story, and when they mention the return of the birds let them 
tell the names of the first comers and then of any other birds which they 
know. ^ 

The special bird to be studied will be the one which can be obtained. 
Where a live canary is not already the happy possession of the kinder- 
garten, one can easily be borrowed. If not, a stuffed bird will do, and 
pictures are always useful. 

Place the bird where all the children can see it, and as they describe 
this special creature lead them to comiiare it with those previously ob- 
served. For instance, when the bird's feathers are mentioned, question 
concerning the covering of four-footed creatures and fishes. Recall the 
gorgeous colors of many fishes in connection with the brilliant plumage 
of the birds, and so on through all the most noteworthy points of appear- 
ance, and of activity as well.) 



THE TALK. 

Birdie can fly, hop, sing, build nest, lay eggs ; has two legs 
and two wings. Has it a backbone? Yes. Name all the ani- 
mals you know Avhich have backbones ; those which have four 
feet ; four fins ; two feet and two hands ; two feet and two 
wings. (Such grouping will lead to the observation that all 
backboned animals have two pairs of limbs.) 

Look at birdie's legs. Do you see that they are covered with 
scales? How many toes has this birdie? Where does he sleep? 
Where do most birds sleep? The young birds in the nest, the 
older birds perched on the trees, holding firmly to the twig with 
their four toes. 

Do you remember how the fish guided himself through the 
water? Birdie, too, uses his tail to guide him through the air, 
but his wings also help. 



IN THE CHILirS WORLD. 283 

How daintily neat birds keep themselves I Many of them like 
to bathe in the clear, cold water of the brooks or ponds. After 
a splash they shake their wings and fluff out their feathers, and 
then set to work to make them all smooth again. This the birds 
do with their bills and a little oil. You could never guess 
where they get the oil. Each bird carries a little with him in a 
gland or tiny bag by his tail. 

What does birdie eat? Grains and other seeds, worms, cater- 
pillars and many kinds of insects. Are birds useful? (Tell 
briefly the story of the "Birds of Killingworth.") 

What kind of homes do birds have ? Who makes the nests? 
Isn't it wonderful that they can make such dear little nests when 
they have only their bills and feet to use for hands and tools? 
(Show a bird's nest, and tell how the father and mother bird 
work together — the father often collecting the materials for the 
mother to weave into a nest. Sing the nest-building songs — 
''The swallow is a mason,'' etc. — and the finger play of ''Fly, 
little birds, fly east and west." Speak of the beautiful music 
which adds so much to the joyousness of the world; and lastly, 
tell of the love and devotion of the parent birds, and the helpless- 
ness of the nestlings, that the children may behold their own 
I'amily life through this beautiful imagery.) 



284 



IN THE child's WORLD. 



TEACHER'S READING. 



Winners in Life's Race (Chaps. VI, VII), - 
Birds of America, . . - - - 

Key to North American Birds, 
Land and Game Birds, . . . - 

Birds and Poets, . - . - - 

Son<? of Life, ------ 

Birds through an Opera Glass, 

April Birds ("Sharp Eyes"), 

My Aviary, ------ 

Birds of Killingworth. . . - - 

The Skylark, ----.-- 

The Nio:htingale, . - - - - 

To a Skylark, ------ 

Robert of Lincoln, - - - - - 

The Singing Lesson, - - - - - 

Sing on, Blithe Bird, - - - - - 

The Eagle, ------ 

Elizabeth's Concert ("St. Nicholas," June, 1887), 

The Lover and Birds, - . - . 

The Robin, 

The Bluebird, 

The Humming Bird, 

Under tlie Lighthouse, 

The Emperor's Crown, 



Arabella Buckley 

Audubon 

Elliot Cones 

Minot 

John Burrouf/hs 

Margaret Morley 

F. Merriam 

W. H. Gibson 

- O. W. Holmes 

Longfellow 

Shelley 

Keats 

Wordsworth 

Bryant 

*■ - Jean Ingelow 

William Motherwell 

Tennyson 

Bobina S. Smith 

Allingham 

Emily Dickinson 
Celia Thaxter 



FOR THE CHILDREN. 

The Nightingale, ------ Andersen 

Dick and Topsy (" Stories for Kindergarten and Home." ) 

Singer's Lesson ("Kindergarten Gems.") 

Story of Birds and Fishes ( " Kindergarten Stories and 

Morning Talks") S. E. Wiltse 



IX THE child's would. 285 

STORIES. 

JACK AND JENNY SPARROW. 

A sparrow that lived with many others in a public park 
offended his neighbors by getting up too early in the morning 
and beginning to chirp before they were willing to be waked. 
They called a meeting of all the flock, and after considering the 
matter told him that he and his mate must look for another home. 

This he refused to do, saying that he had as good a right to 
stay where he was as they had. 

'' These trees do not belong to you," he said, "and you don't 
pay rent for thebird-boxes we live in. They wore put up by the 
people who own the park, because they love to see us building 
our nests and flying about here. 

"Besides this," he continued, "I have done nothing with 
which you ought to find fault, for I never wake till the break of 
day, and do not begin to chirp for several minutes after that, 
when all industrious sparrows should be ready for breakfast. 
This very morning I heard a cock crow before I opened my bill, 
and what sparrow would not be ashamed to be lazier than the 
chickens?" 

When the other birds heard this speech they did not try to 
answer it — for, indeed, it was every word true and they could say 
nothing against it — but they attacked the sparrow and his mate 
and drove them from the park. 

As winter was just coming on, they knew not where to go or 
what to do. For the first few nights they roosted on the roof of 
a stable; but this was a forlorn, lonely place, and, as they had no 
perch to clasp with their little feet, the wind almost blew them 
away. Besides this, the man who kept the stable was so saving 
of his corn, and swept the yard so clean, that they could hardly 
pick up as much as would make a good meal in a whole day. 

From the roof of the stable they moved under the eaves of a 
carpenter shop, and thought they were nicely fixed, until one 
dark night a cat stole softly along the roof to the spot where they 



286 IN THE child's world. 

were sleeping, and, suddenly putting out her paw, almost caught 
them both in her sharp claws ! 

As it was, she caught poor Jenny's tail and pulled out every 
feather of it, which did the cat no good, but was a great loss to 
Jenny, for she could hardly guide herself iu flying, and looked 
very odd beside. 

After this they led a sad, wandering life for the rest of the 
winter, always sleeping in fear on clotheslines and fences, and 
picking up a poor living — mostly from frozen slop buckets and 
around kitchen doors. 

But toward spring better fortune came to them, for a little 
girl, looking out of the dining-room window one morning, spied 
them hopping about the pavement below, and threw them some 
crumbs. Her Joy was great when she saw them quickly eat what 
she had thrown and then seem to look up for more. She ran 
back to the table and brought them as much as they wanted. 

The next day they came again, and after this, every day, 
almost as soon as it was light, they might be seen waiting for 
their breakfast from the hands of their little friend. 

But think of their surprise one April morning, when the sun 
was shining brightly and the buds were just beginning to swell 
on the rosebushes, to see the carpenter come in at the garden 
gate carrying a new bird-box fastened to the top of a high pole, 
which he at once began to set up in the middle of the grassplot, 
digging a deep hole to set it in, so that it would stand firm in 
spite of wind and weather. 

Their kind little friend ran out from the house and almost 
danced for joy around the pole Avhile it was being planted. And 
her father and mother, and brothers and sisters, sharing in her 
delight, all left the breakfast table to watch the carpenter at his 
work. 

That very day the happy j^air — little Jack and Jenny — went 
into their new home, and before night were picking up dried 
grass and twigs with which to begin building their nest. 

Charles Foster. 

From " New Lights on Old Paths,'" Chas. Foster Pub. Co., Phila., Pa. 




The Spakrows' Home. 



288 IN THE child's world, 

LITTLE YELLOW-WING. 

''The brook! the hrook! let us go to the brook!" cried Willie 
and his cousins, George and Eddy, as they looked from a win- 
dow after a storm, and saw the overflowed banks of a small 
stream. 

Thick shoes and a cloak were brought for Lizzie; and she 
walked by her father's side, while the boys ran shouting and 
jumping before them. 

They found the brook changed indeed by the rain. A few 
days before they had built a dam across it, which made a pretty 
waterfall; but now it was all swept away, and the brook was no 
longer a narrow stream, but had spread out wide, and ran furi- 
ously over the stones. 

While the boys were running after chips of wood which they 
threw into the water for boats, the father, who stood with Lizzie 
under a tree, saw something move near his feet, and picked up a 
poor, half-drowned bird. Lizzie called her brother and cousins, 
and they all looked sorrowfully at the bird, and said, '' Poor fel- 
low! poor fellow!" and begged to take him to the house, for he 
shook with cold, and seemed to be dying. He was laid in Lizzie's 
hand; she gently covered him and carried him home to her 
mother. The little creature was dried and warmed; and his 
feathers, which, when wet, did not hide his body, spread out and 
covered him with a thick plumage. 

''Is it really the same bird?" asked Lizzie. "Oh, I am so 
glad papa found him ! " 

"See," said Eddy, "the bright yellow on his brown wings! 
Let us name him Yellow- wing." 

Crumbs of bread were offered to him, but he would not eat, 
and cried, " Peep, peep," long after he was laid in a warm 
basket. 

The next morning Yellow-wing looked quite lively, and no 
longer cried, " Peep, peep," but cheerfully sang, " Chirp, chirp." 

"He is a yellow bird," said George; "and when he is older, 
he will be as pretty as a canary." 

Willie looked at his mother, and his eyes seemed to say, " May 
I keep him?" 



IN THE child's WORLD. 28'J 

She answered: "'No, my son, it would be cruel to take him 
from the green trees and fields; for 

" ' How pleasant the life of a bird must be, 
Living in love in a leafy tree !' " 

"' I know/' said AVillie, "that I should not like to be shut up 
in a cage; but what shall we do with him?" 

"He cannot fly, poor fellow/' said Lizzie; "we must keep 
him until he can fly/' 

Eddy told of a nest in the barn, and said that Yellow-wing 
might be squeezed in among those young ones. 

" But," said George, "the nest in the barn belongs to a swal- 
low, who will not like to have a yellow bird among her little 
ones." 

At last it was agreed to take him back to the brook, and try 
to find the nest from which he fell. The children soon started 
on their errand of love and kindness, more happy in taking a 
poor bird to his father and mother than if they had been allowed 
to keep him in a cage. Tliey carried him to the tree under 
which he was found, and stood him on a fence near it. Yellow- 
wing cried, "Peep, peep," and " Peep, peep," was heard from 
the tree. 

" ' Come up, come up,' they seemed to say, 
' Where the topmost twigs to the breezes play!' " 

But he could not fly up, and Willie said: " The old birds will 
not come down while we are so near." So the children went to 
a pile of stones, and sat there quite still. 

" See, see his mother! " whispered Lizzie, as a larger bird flew 
from the tree and alighted close to Yellow-wing. Soon the old 
bird flew off a little, and the young one spread his wings and 
followed her; a little further went the mother bird, and Yellow- 
wing flew after her; and thus, by flying a short distance at a 
time, he soon learned to fly well enough to reach a low branch of 
a tree, then a higher one, and at last both birds were hid among 
the leaves. And Lizzie said: "Hark! I hear the ' Chirp, chirp,' 
of dear little Yellow-wing, he is so glad to get back into the 

warm nest/' 

Selected. 



2yU IN THE CHILD S WOULD. 



CHILD AND BIRD. 

" Birdie, Birdie, will you pet? 
Summer is far and far away yet. 
I 've a silken quilt and a feather bed, 
And a pillow of satin for your head." 

" I'd rather sleep in the ivy wall, 
No rain comes through, though I hear it fall; 
The sun peeps gay at dawn of day, 
And I sing and wing away, away.'' 

" O Birdie, Birdie, will you pet? 
Here are diamonds, amber and jet! 
I '11 make a necklace, fair and fine, 
To please this pretty bird of mine." 

" Oh! Thanks for diamonds and thanks for jet 
But here is something costlier yet: 
A feather necklace, round and round, 
That I would n't sell for a thousand pound." 

" O Birdie, Birdie, wonH you pet? 
I '11 give you a dish of silver fret, 
A golden cup and an ivory seat. 
And carpets soft beneath your feet." 

" Can running water be drunk from gold? 
Can a silver dish the forest hold? 
A rocking twig is the finest chair, 
And the softest paths lie through tte air. 
Good-bye, good-bye, to my lady fair! "' 

AVlI,LIAM ALI.IXGHAM. 



THE SANDPIPERS. 

Children, did you ever see a Sandpiper? "No.'' (Show a 
picture of one.) " What long legs it has for such a little bird! " 
Yes. Why do you suppose he has such long legs? " To wade 
with?" Yes. Mr. Sandpiper lives by the side of a great piece 
of salt water called an ocean. The land that is close to the 
water is called a beach. It is sometimes rocky, but where Mr. 
Sandpiper lives it is sandy. He is not very sociable, for he and 



IN THE child's world. ;^91 

his wife and the babies live where there are no other families of 
Sandpipers very near them. Mrs. Sandpiper makes her nest 
near the beach. 

One day the whole family were on the beach, running up and 
down, and the father and mother were scratching in the loose 
sand and getting worms for the baby Sandpipers and for them- 
selves to eat. Every time one of the little Sandpipers called, the 
father or mother put a worm into its open mouth. But the 
babies wanted so much food that, after a while, their mamma 
thought they had better learn to catch worms for themselves; 
so she called them and showed them how to scratch up the sand, 
and how to catch the worms when they were in sight. The 
Sandpiper family were having a very good time eating and play- 
ing, when suddenly they saw some men coming. Each of these 
men carried a gun. 

Then Mamma Sandpiper was frightened and ran to her nest, 
and the baby Sandpipers hid under her wings. But Papa 
Sandpiper was afraid that the men would find them, and what 
do you suppose he did? He made believe that he was hurt, and, 
with his wings drooping, ran along before the men to make 
them follow him; but lie would not let them get near enough to 
fire at him. So he led them along, farther and farther from his 
family, till he thought the men were far enough away; then he hid 
from them, and after awhile, when he was sure they could not 
see him, he went back as fast as he could to the other birdies, 
who were very glad to see him safe and well, and thanked him 
for saving them. What do you suppose they said? "Peep, 
peep.'' Yes, that is just what they did say. Then they all went 
back to the beach, but they did not see the men again. 

Josephine Jaryis. 

( 'uhden, III. 



BIRDS' NESTS. 



To THE Teacher: — 

In preparation for this talk tlie teacher should get several nests — as 
many as possible — in order to show the ingenuity and skill of the little 
builders and the variety of materials used. 

Sing a bird-song to introduce the subject of nests, or lead to it from the 
finger play of "The Family," speaking of the child's home and then of 
other homes. 



THE TALK. 

When do the birds build their nests? They usually seem anx- 
ious to have a home as soon as possible after they come back in 
the spring. "What is the first thing they do about it? Choose a 
place. Ah! yes; and if you had a chance to watch them you 
would find they thought that a very important piece of work. 

Why do they choose so carefully, do you think? Where do they 
build their nests? Not only in trees, but sometimes in low bushes, 
sometimes on the ground, sometimes in the barn, or even in a 

chimney or stone wall or a 
sand bank. Th-e place which 
one bird likes would not suit 
another bird at all; for in- 
stance, the robin often chooses 
the apple trees while the Bal- 
timore oriole seeks the tallest elm, and the little ground sparrow 
feels safest on the ground. (The children will not know much 
of nests being built in other places than trees, but should be 
shown the advantages of different sites. ) 

Now let us look at these nests. Look sharply and see what the 
birds have woven together — string, leaves, hay, straws, sticks, 
mud, moss, bark, feathers, hair, wool, etc., etc. 

Does it seem possible that a home could be made of such bits 
and scraps? Do you think we could make anything out of them 




'Z'.l-i IN THE child's WORLD, 

that would be strong enough to hold a mother bird and her eggs, 
and, by and by, the young birds? (If practicable let the children 
gather materials and attempt making a nest, and they will be the 
more impressed with the wondrous skill of the bird.) 

How do the birds get all these things for building their nests? 
They have to find them. Can they carry much at one time? 
Just think how many times they must fly back and forth before 
they can have enough. Perhaps you can put some strings and 
threads out of doors where the birds can see them easily and get 
them. Shouldn't you like to give something towards building 
a bird's nest? 

What tools does a bird use? Only her beak and her feet; and 
yet she can weave, or sew, or plaster, or bore holes, or dig, just 
as she finds the best and safest way for making her nest. 

'' Of all the weavers that I know the oriole is the best." Her 
nest is like a deep pocket and so closely woven that the rain can- 
not get through the sides at all. She must have long pieces for 
her. weaving, so she tears strips from the tough stems of plants 
and finds long hairs from the horse's tail. 

The best sewer is the tailor bird, who does not come to our 
land, however. She takes long leaves and actually sews them 
together with real stitches. How interesting it must be to see 
the little creature making the holes and putting the thread through 
with her sharp bill ! 

The swallow plasters her nest under the eaves with mud, so we 
call her a mason. Robin, too, likes mud and is wise enough to 
mix straws with the mud so that it shall not crumble away. 

The woodpecker is the most like a carpenter, for he works with 
wood instead of these soft things. He hammers at a tree with 
his sharp, strong bill till he makes a round, smooth hole large 
enough to pass through, and then he and Mrs. Woodpecker take 
turns working till they have hollowed out a nice nest. They carry 
out their chips as they work, too. 

The chimney swallow makes a kind of glue with which 
she glues the sticks together and fastens them to the side of the 
chimney. 

All these are perching birds, which are the best nest-builders, 
because they have the strong yet delicate feet and bills, which 



IN THE CHILIJ S WOliLD. 



295 



make the best tools. The ground birds make loose, simple nests, 
most of them digging their nests in the sand. 

The smallest and prettiest nest is made by the smallest and 
prettiest bird in the world— the humming bird. With softest cot- 
ton or wool on the inside, and pretty bits of moss and bark on the 
outside, and put together with filmy spider's web, it is really 
beautiful. And it shows how wise and careful the humming bird 
is, too, for the moss and bark make the nest so like the tree on 
which it is placed that it is seldom found. 

Birds do not always build new nests. Some of them find their 
own old one where they lived the year before, and use that, mend- 
ing it if necessary; others take nests which another kind of bird 
has built, but the most of them make a new nest for each brood 
of little ones, as if they wanted to be sure to have as strong and 
safe and nice a home for their other children as they had had for 
their first nestlings. 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Homes without Hands, - - - - - J. G. Wood 

Preface (" Merry Songs and Games " ), - - - Susan E. Blow 

Birds' Nests (" Wake Robin" ), . . - John Burroughs 

The Tragedies of the Nests ( " Signs and Seasons"), John Burroughs 

Sharp Eyes ("Locusts and Wild Honey"), - John Burroughs 

Bird Nest Materials ("Sharp Eyes"), - - - W.H.Gibson 

The White Heron, - . . . _ Sarah O. Jewett 

An Order for a Picture, . _ - . - Alice Gary 

Choosing a Building Spot, - 1 - - Emily Braddock 



FOR THE CHILDREN. 



The Branible Bush and the Lambs j ^.. Kindergarten Stories 
A. Queer Place for a Bud s Home ) ^ " 

and Morning Talks"), . - - - - 



S. E. Wiltse 



296 IJS THE child's world. 



bTORIES. 

THE SCARECROW. 

The farmer looked at his cherry tree, 
With thick buds clustered on every bough; 
"I wish I could cheat the robins," said he; 
" If somebody only wovild show me how! 

"I '11 make a terrible scarecrow grim. 

With threatening arms and with bristling head, 
And up in the tree I '11 fasten him 
To frighten them half to death," he said. 

He fashioned a scarecrow tattered and torn — 

Oh! 'twas a horrible thing to seel 
And very early, one summer morn, 

He set it up in his cherry tree. 

The blossoms were white as the light sea-foam. 
The beautiful tree was a lovely sight, 

But the scarecrow stood there so much at home 
All the birds flew screaming away in fright. 

The robins, who watched him every day, 
Heads held aslant, keen eyes so bright! 
Surveying the monster, began to say, 
" Why should this monster our prospects blight? 

"He never moves round for the roughest weather, 
He's a harmless, comical, tough old fellow; 
Let's all go into the tree together, 
For he won't budge till the fruit is mellow! " 

So up they flew; and the sauciest pair 

Mid the shady branches peered and perked. 

Selected a spot with the utmost care. 
And all day merrily sang and worked. 

And where do you think they built their nest? 

In the scarecrow's pocket, if you please. 
That, half concealed on his ragged breast. 

Made a charming covert of safety and ease! 



IN THE child's WORLD. 2'J7 

By the time the cherries were ruby-red, 

A thriving family, hungry and brisk, 
The wliole day long on the ripe fruit fed; 
'Twas so convenient! They ran no risk! 

Until the children were ready to fly. 

All undisturbed they lived in the tree; 
For nobody thought to look at the Guy 

For a robin's flourishing family ! 

Celia Thaxter. 



THE NEST OF MANY COLORS. 

Mr. and Mrs. Oriole arrived from the South one bright day in 
May. They had had a pleasant journey, but were glad to find 
themselves once more at the old summer home — the great elm 
tree which stood on the top of the hill and swung its branches 
over the farmhouse in which Ned and Kitty lived. You would 
never have thought that those two birds had been traveling hun- 
dreds of miles, if you had seen the way they darted about, Mr. 
Oriole's yellow feathers showing like flashes of sunshine as he flew 
swiftly past. 

The two birds were very happy to be back, and had so many 
things to do that they had no desire to sit still, not they! Mr. 
Oriole wanted to see the Eobins and Bluebirds and all the other 
friends who had arrived, and to get the spring news. He also 
wanted to see the Pigeons and hear how the winter had gone with 
them. But Mrs. Oriole was anxious to get to nest-building at 
once. 

''My dear mate," said she, "you know how much material it 
takes to make a nest and how much work it is to weave it. Do 
help me first to collect some things for weaving. There will be 
plenty of time for visiting later." 

" But if we go to the barn where the pigeons are perhaps I can 
get you some of those long hairs which are so good for weaving," 
suggested Mr. Oriole. 

" Oh ! then we '11 go, by all means," said Mrs. Oriole; and away 
they went. • 



298 IN THE child's world. 

Now while tlie orioles had been chatting together, Ned and 
Kitty had been watching them with great delight. Ned could 
not remember seeing the orioles last year; but Kitty, who was 
older, felt that she had known them a long while, for she had 
watched them build their nest several times. 

This year the children had a great plan. Kitty had thought 
of it one day when she was crocheting, and she had saved some 
pieces of bright worsted which she had at first thought of throw- 
ing away. 

"The orioles will soon be back," she had said; "I may as well 
keep these worsteds. What a gay spot they will make in a nest! " 
After this she had saved other pieces, and now had a bright bunch 
of red and orange and yellow and green and blue and purple; and 
she and Ned had planned that the oriole nest this year should 
be the most gorgeous that ever was woven. 

When Mr. and Mrs. Oriole returned from their visit to the 
barn they were in high glee, for they had each found one of the 
long hairs from the farm-horses' tails, and this was great good 
fortune! Kitty and Ned slipped away from the bushes near the 
elm tree just in time. They had spread some bright red worsted 
out in plain sight, and now stood in the doorway watching. 

Mrs. Oriole was flying ahead of her mate, and, reaching the 
tree first, alighted on the tip of a long, slender branch high up in 
the tree. This was the spot which they had decided upon for 
their nest. 

No sooner had they perched on the branch with the horsehairs 
trailing from their bills, than they spied the red worsted on the 
bushes below. You can not think how delighted they were. 

" We can get to work very soon if we have such good fortune 
as this'' chirped Mrs. Oriole. " Now let us go and find one of 
those plants * which have such good stalks to tear strips from." 

Mr. Oriole agreed, and the two flew away again. They found 



* "For fibrous materials she broke, hackled, and gathered the flax of the asclepias 
and hibiscus stalks, tearing off long strings and flying with them to the scene of her 
labors." 

NUTTALL. 

" A peculiar flax-like substance seems to be always sought after and always found." 

Burroughs. 
"Alncent Barnard of Pennsylvania says that a friend of his, on observing the bird 
(an oriole) beginning to build, hung out near the prospective nest skeins of many- 



IN THE child's WORLD. "^99 

the plant they wanted and tugged away with their beaks and their 
claws till they ench had a good long strij). Tiiey flew back to tiie 
elm tree again, and behold! upon the same bush where the red 
worsted had so mysteriously appeared, were now some orange and 
yellow strands, as gay as the oranges and lemons whicli they had 
seen in the land where they had spent the winter. 

"Quick! Quick!" called Mrs. Oriole in great excitement. 
'*' Let us get that, too! I must begin to work immediately." 

And begin she did, while Mr. Oriole fluttered about, — some- 
times helping, sometimes looking on, and often bursting into 
joyous song. 

JSTed and Kitty watched — oh! so quietly — as long as they could 
see, and wished that the leaves did not hide the little weaver. 
Every day after this Ned and Kitty put moi'e worsted out on the 
bushes — green, and then blue, and then purple — until all their 
colors were used. The birds always spied the worsted very soon, 
and twittered and warbled joyfully over it. Day after day they 
worked busily and happily; and the strips torn from the ])lants, 
the long wisps of hay, the gay worsteds and the horsehair were 
woven together and soon took shape as a nest. 

It was wonderful how cleverly the little birds managed and how 
jiatiently they worked. The long strings caught and tangled on 
the twigs of the tree sometimes, and sometimes the wind carried 
off a wisp of hay just when Mrs. Oriole was going to weave it; 
but the two weavers chirped and twittered gaily all the while, 
notwithstanding. 

At last, within a week, the happy day came when the nest was 
finished, and ]\Ir. and Mrs. Oriole had arollicking jubilee of song 
over its completion. No wonder they were hai)py! How safe 
their little home was! No eggs could fall out of such a deep nest 
as this. No rain could get through its thin but closely woven 
sides to chill the eggs or the baby birds who would by and by 
come from the eggs. And what could be more delightful for the 
little ones than the swnying, rocking motion which even thegen- 



colored zephyr yarn, which the eager artist readily appropriated. He managed it so- 
that the bird used nearly equal quantities of various high, bright colors. The nest was 
made unusually deep and capacious, and it may be questioned if such a thing of beauty 
was ever before woveu by the cunning of a bird." 

From John Burrouijhs'' '• Wakf 7?obin." 



3l)0 • IX THIC CHILD S WORLD. 



tlest breeze gave to this high swinging home? Thus far it was just 
like the nest of many other orioles, for, as we often sing: — 

" Of all the weavers that I know 
The oriole is the best. 
High in the branches of the tree 
He hangs his cosy nest." 

But the worsteds which Kitty and Ned had supplied made 
brilliant spots and bands of color such as had never been seen 
before in the nest of a bird. 

"See! See! See!" carolled Mr. Oriole as he flew round and 
round the nest in ecstasy. " It is as gay as a flower garden! It 
must be those wonderful strings which we found on the bushes 
below which make it so beautiful." 

" Flower garden, do you say? " sang Mrs. Oriole. " There are 
colors more dear and beautiful to me than the bright flower colors. 
That soft green reminds me of the leaves which rustle about our 
home and shade it and hide it. But this little spot right here, my 
dear, is what I most rejoice to see; not because it is like yellow 
flowers or sunshine, though it is like both; but because it is the 
color of your own golden, bright feathers. I remember well when 
I wove that string into the nest." 

Then the two birds joined in the oriole song of " Home, Sweet 
Home," which is of a different tune from tlie one we people sing, 
but which has the same meaning, I am sure. 

While the orioles were rejoicing thus over their beautiful home, 
Ned and Kitty, with their papa and mamma, were looking up at 
the completed nest. They were fllled with wonder and delight. 

" Who would ever think that such a beautiful and perfect thing 
as that was made without hands and without tools?" said Papa. 

" I am so glad I saved the worsted!" said Kitty. " I mean to 
put some out every spring." 

Bmilie Poulsson. 



THE SPARROW'S NEST. 

Nay, only look what I have found! 
A sparrow's nest upon the ground: 
A sparrow's nest, as you may see, 
Blown out of yonder old elm tree. 



IN THE child's WORLD. 301 

And what a medley thing it is ! 
I never saw a nest like this, — 
So neatly wove with decent care, 
Of silvery moss and shining hair. 

But put together, odds and ends, 
Picked up from enemies and friends: 
See, bits of thread, and bits of rag, 
Just like a little rubbish bag! 

See, hair of dog and fur of cat. 

And rovings of a worsted mat, 

And shreds of silks, and many a feather 

Compacted cunningly together. 

Well ! here has hoarding been and living, 
And not a little good contriving, 
Before a home of peace and ease 
Was fashioned out of things like these I 

Think, had these odds and ends been brought 
To some wise man reuovraed for thought, 
Some man, of men the very gem. 
Pray, what could he have done with them? 

If we had said: " Here, sir, we bring 
You many a worthless little thing. 
Just bits and sci'aps, so very small 
That they have scarcely size at all; 

And out of these, you must contrive 

A dwelling large enough for five; 

Neat, warm, and snug; with comfort stored; 

Where five small things may lodge and board." 

How would the man of learning vast 
Have been astonished and aghast. 
And vowed that such a thing had been 
Ne'er heard of, thought of, much less seen. 

Ah! man of learning, you are wrong; 
Instinct is, more than wisdom, strong; 
And He who made the sparrow, taught 
This skill beyond your reach of thought. 

And here in this uncostly nest, 
These little creatures have been blest; 
Nor have kings known in palaces, 
Half their contentedness in this — 
Poor, simple dwelling as it is! 

Mary Howitt. 



THE BUTTERFLY. 

To THE Teacher: — 

A good time to catch the early spring butterfly is, paradoxically, the 
previous autumn, when it is in its chrysalis state; or, better still, when 
it is in its caterpillar childhood.* This requires forethought and some 
little trouble; but, to use an expression of the Welsh peasant women, 
" The trouble's a pleasure, mem." For, however familiar the fact of the 
metamorphosis of in.sects may he, to watch a caterpillar through its 
changes is to be present at one of nature's miracles more wonderful than 
any transformation scene of fairy land. 

The teacher should not defraud herself of this delight, and should 
bring it to the children; for it is perfectly feasible to have the whole 
cycle of chansies accomplished in kindergarten. 

In the following talk it is assumed that the teacher has a butterfly and 
the chrysalis from which it emerged, and the talk should surely not be 
given without such specimens. 

By obtaining the specimen in its caterpillar or chrysalis state cruelty 
is avoided, and the considerate treatment during the short captivity and 
the prompt freeing of the insect when strong enough to fly away can be 
a lesson in mercy. 

The butterfly could be in a glass jar, with mosquito netting over the 
top, for a short time while the children observe it, after which they will 
enjoy giving it its liberty. Flowers, with a drop of sugar syrup added 
to their own nectar, or sweetened water sprinkled on the plants in the 
window, may tempt it to eat when it is Hying about the room. 

The perfected insect — the butterfly — is brought to the children first, 
rather than the catei'pillar or chrysalis, because of its beauty, because it 
is more common than the caterpillar at this time (mid-April), and 
because it corresponds with the other spring symbols of renewed life. 
But the observation of the caterpillar should follow soon and should be 
extended over the whole caterpillar stage of the insect's existence, 
including the dormant period, and coming again to the butterfly which 
lays the eggs from which the caterpillar grows. 

Caterpillars will be placidly comfortable and happy in boxes or glass 
jars covered with netting, if supplied daily with enough fresh leaves of 
a kind to suit their taste. 



* From the latest autumn brood of the Vanessa Antiopa. etc., found on willows, 
poplars and elms. 



IN THE child's WORLD. 303 



THE TALK. 

What season of the year is this? What signs of spring have 
you noticed? Even in the city we can see some, but out in the 
country we sho"uld see many more. I have brought one of the 
beautiful signs of spring to show you to-day. It can fly like a 
bird and is as pretty as a flower, but it is neither flower nor bird. 
Here it is. What is it? 

(Direct the observation by questioning so that the children 
will notice the color, the number of wings — two on each side or 
four in all — the slender legs — three on each side or six in all — the 
large eyes which can see in all directions, the two 
antenna? or feelers, the three divisions of the body. 
Call attention to the rings of the abdomen, since 
they will be noticed again in the caterpillar, and 
to the neck, which is the distinguishing mark of 
insects, the name being derived from in and sedo, 
to cut. That wings and legs are both joined to 
the thorax or middle part of the insect, is also im- 
portant to notice.) What does the butterfly eat? 
Honey from the flowers. Do you know where the 
flowers keep their honey (nectar, to speak more exactly)? Deep 
down in the bottom part of the flower. Tlie butterfly could not 
get his mouth away in there, but he has a wonderful tongue — a 
lono- tube or pipe — long enough to reach the honey in the 
deepest flowers. When the butterfly is not sipping honey his 
long tongue is curled up out of the way and out of sight. 

What does the butterfly like to do? Fly about in the hot sun- 
shine, moving its pretty wings up and down, alighting now on 
this flower and now on that. Is it noisy? No, it makes no 
sound, but flies about very lightly and silently. We must 
remember this when we play that we are butterflies. 

Did we see any butterflies in the winter? Do you know where 
they were then? It is a wonderful story. Many of them were 
in little cases like this (showing chrysalis). You would not 




304 IN THE child's WORLD. 

think a butterfly, with his four large wings, was ever in such a 
little place, would you? But the first part of the story is more 
wonderful still; for, although a butterfly came out of this case 
(or chrysalis), a caterpillar made it! 

How many children have seen caterpillars? How do they 
look? Have they wings? What do they eat? Do they look 
like butterflies? (Show caterpillar and compare with the but- 
terfly, bringing out diiferences chiefly.) 

Yet, although they are so different, a butterfly always grows 
from a caterpillar. The caterpillar crawls about, eating almost 
all the time, and grows very fast. In fact, it grows so fast that 
it gets too large for its skin, and the skin splits open down the 
back and drops off, and there is a new, bright, looser skin under- 
neath. After the caterpillar has outgrown its skin three or four 
times and had as many new dresses, it stops eating, fastens itself 
up somewhere and shakes itself out of its skin once more. This 
time there is no new caterpillar skin ready, for the caterpillar 
has begun to change to a butterfly and will not need it. So, in- 
stead, this covering forms all over its body and the creature stays 
safely shut up in its chrysalis until its wings have grown and it 
has become a perfect butterfly. As soon as this has happened it 
makes a little opening in the chrysalis, puts out its head and 
looks about, and at last crawls out. You would not think the 
butterfly very pretty as it stands on the outside of the empty 
case; for its colors are dull, and its dripping wings cling to its 
wet sides, making it look very limp and forlorn. But after it 
has stretched its legs, and stroked and spread and dried its 
wings, the beautiful colors grow more and more brilliant; and 
when the butterfly floats off in the sunshine it is so beautiful 
that we almost think it is a flower on wings. 




305 



3UG IN THE child's WORLD. 



TEACHER'S READING. 

The Thaw Butterflies ("Sharp Eyes"), - - W.H.Gibson 

Life and iier Children (Chap. XI), - - - Arabella Buckley 

Insects Injurious to Vegetation, ----- Harris 

Butterflies of New England, - - - -C.J. Maynard 

Butterflies of North America, - - - - C. J. Maynard 

The Butterflies of Eastern United States and Canada, Samuel H. Hcudder 
Insect Lives; or, Born in Prison, - - - J. P. Ballard 

Worms or Caterpillars, etc. ("Kindergarten Magazine," 

October, 1891), - - - - . e. G. Howe 

Paradise Lost (Book VII), - - . - . Milton 

The Nomades, ------ . Lowell 

To a Butterfly, ------ Wordsworth 

The Butterfly's Day, ----- Emily Dickinson 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

Sc^ai? W^uged'^^"^'^ \ C'^^^^^^ ^ol^^ in Feathers and Fur"), O. T. Miller 



SOME COMMON BUTTERFLIES. 

The first butterflies of the spring are tliose wliicli liave hiber- 
nated in their winged state — Vanessa Antiopa, Comma, Semi- 
colon, and Atlanta. They are sometimes tempted out bj warm 
days in March, and in April are quite common. 

Here are some hints from Wm. H. Gibson, that sharp-eyed 
observer and charming chronicler : — 

" The butterflies are now frequenting the tender foliage of the 
willows by the brook, and in a few weeks the first brood of their 
black, spiny caterpillars will literally weigh down the slender 
branches as they strip the leaves and leave their cast-off skins 
fringing the twigs. Hundreds of the caterpillars may be gath- 
ered in a few moments, and the walls of your collecting box will 
soon be hung closely with chrysalids, nearly all of which will 
liave been transformed into butterflies within a period of a fort- 
1 ight. There are two, or, I am led to think, even three of those 



IN TEE CHILI/S WORLD. 307 

caterpillar broods during the year; the butterflies from the last 
in autumn, surviving the winter." ******** 

" Any one of thefS angle-wing butterflies (Vanessa Antiopa, 
Comma, Semicolon and Atlanta), may be kept in domestication 
through the winter months, becoming very tame and familiar, 
and forming a pretty feature of the conservatory, or even the 
window garden." 

On any of the parsley family of plants will be found a black- 
banded, gold-spotted, green caterpillar, with malodorous yellow 
horns. Its chrysalis is gray; the butterfly, black swallow-tail — 
Papilio Asterias. 

On any of the milkweed family will be found a black-and- 
yellow-banded caterpillar. Its chrysalis is emerald green, studded 
with golden points; the butterfly, orange-red wings, veined with 
black — Danais Archippus. 

On spice or sassafras bushes, a strange looking caterpillar, with 
horns like the Asterias caterpillar, feeds. It wears first a green 
skin with blue spots, and afterwards (just before the chrysalis 
stage) a skin of a rich yellow color. Its chrysalis is of pale wood 
color; the butterfly, the blue swallow-tail — Papilio Troilus. 



STORIES. 

A LESSON OF FAITH. 

" If a man die, shall he live again? All the days of my appointed time 
will I wait, till my change come." — Job xiv: 14. 

"Let me hire you as a nurse for my poor children," said a 
Butterfly to a quiet Caterpillar, who was strolling along a cab- 
bage leaf in her odd, lumbering way. '•' See these little eggs," 
continued the Butterfly; " I don't know how long it will be 
before they come to life, and I feel very sick and poorly, and if 
I should die, who will take care of my baby butterflies when I 
am gone? Will you, kind, mild, green Caterpillar? But you 
must mind what you give them to eat, Caterpillar! — they cannot, 
of course, live on your rough food. You must give them early 
dew, and honey from the flowers; and you must let them fly 



'606 IX THE child's world. 

about only a, little way at first; for, of course, one can't expect 
them to use their wings properly all at once. Dear me I it is a 
sad i)ity you cannot fly yourself. But I have no time to look for 
another nurse now, so you will do your best, I hope. Dear I 
dear! I cannot think what made me come and lay my eggs on a 
cabbage leaf I What a' place for young Butterflies to be born 
upon! Still you will be kind, will you not, to the poor little 
ones? Here, take this gold-dust from my wings as a reward. 
Oh, how dizzy I am! Caterpillar, you will remember about the 
food ' — 

And with these words the Butterfly drooped her wings and 
died; and the green Caterpillar, who had not liad the opportu- 
nity of even saying yes or no to the request, was left standing 
alone by the side of the Butterfly's eggs. 

"A pretty nurse she has chosen, indeed, poor lady!" exclaimed 
she, " and a pretty business I have in hand! Why, her senses 
must have left her, or she never would have asked a poor, crawl- 
ing creature like me to bring up her dainty little ones! Much 
they'll mind me, truly, when they feel the gaywings on their 
backs, and can fly away out of my sight whenever they choose! 
Ah! how silly some people are, in spite of their painted clothes 
and the gold-dust on their wings!" 

However, the poor Butterfly was dead, and there lay the eggs 
on the cabbage leaf; and the green Caterpillar had a kind heart, 
so she resolved to do her best. But she got no sleep that night, 
she was so very anxious. She made her back quite ache with 
walking all night round her young charges, for fear any harm 
should happen to them; and in the morning, says she to herself: 
'* Two heads are better than one. I will consult some wise 
animal upon the matter, and get advice. How should a jjoor, 
crawling creature like me know what to do without asking my 
betters?" 

But still there was a difficulty — whom should the Caterpillar 
consult? There was the shaggy Dog who sometimes came into 
the garden. But he was so rough! — he would most likely whisk 
; 11 the eggs off the cal)bage leaf with one brush of his tail, if 
she called him near to talk to lier, and then she should never 
forgive herself. Thei-e was tlie Tom Cat, to be sure, who would 



IN THE child's WORLD. 309 

sometimes sit at the loot of the apple tree, baskmg himself and 
warming his fur in the sunshine; but he was so selfish and indif- 
ferent! — tiiere was no hope of his giving himself the trouble to 
think about Butterflies' eggs. "I wonder which is the wisest 
of all the animals I know," sighed the Caterpillar in great dis- 
tress; and then she thought, and thought, till at last she thought 
of the Lark; and she fancied that because he went up so high, 
and nobody knew where he went to, he must be very clever and 
know a great deal; for to go up very high (which she could never 
do) was the Caterpillar's idea of perfect glory. 

Now in the neighboring cornfield there lived a Lark, and the 
Caterpillar sent a message to him, to beg him to come and talk 
to her ; and when he came she told him all her difficulties, and 
asked him what she was to do to feed and rear the little creatures 
so different from herself. 

" Perhaps you will be able to inquire and hear something 
about it next time you go up high," observed the Caterpillar, 
timidly. 

The Lark said, " Perhaps he should;" but he did not satisfy 
her curiosity any further. Soon afterwards, however, he went 
singing upwards into the bright blue sky. By degrees his voice 
died away in the distance, till the green Caterpillar could not 
hear a sound. It is nothing to say she could not see him; for, 
poor thing! she never could see far at any time, and had a diffi- 
culty in looking upwards at all, even when she reared herself up 
most carefully, which she did now; but it was of no use, so she 
dropped upon her legs again, and resumed her walk round the 
Butterfly's eggs, nibbling a bit of the cabbage leaf now and then 
as she moved along. 

'' What a time the Lark has been gone!" she cried at last. 
" I wonder where he is just now! I would give all my legs to 
know! He must have flown up higher than usual this time, I 
do think. How I should like to know where it is that he goes to 
and what he hears in that curious blue sky! He always sings in 
going up and coming down, but he never lets any secret out. 
He is very, very close! " 

And the green Caterpillar took another turn round the But- 
terfly's egus. 



310 IN THE CHELD'S WORLD. 

x\t last the Lark's voice began to be heard again. The Cater- 
pillar almost jumped for joy, and it was not long before she saw 
her friend descend with hushed note to the cabbage bed. 

"News, news, glorious news, friend Caterpillar!" sang the 
Lark; " but the worst of it is, you won't believe me." 

" I believe everything I am told," observed the Caterpillar, 
hastily. 

" Well, then, first of all, I will tell you what these little crea- 
tures are to eat," and the Lark nodded his beak towards the 
eggs. " What do you think it is to be? Guess! " 

'•Dew, and honey out of flowers, I am afraid," sighed the 
Caterpillar. 

" No such thing, old lady! Something simpler than that. 
Something that you can get at quite easily." 

" I can get at nothing quite easily but cabbage leaves," mur- 
mured the Caterpillar, in distress. 

" Excellent! my good friend," cried the Lark, exultingly; " you 
have found it out. You are to feed them with cabbage leaves." 

^' Never !" cried the Caterpillar, indignantly. ''It was their 
dying mother's last request that I should do no such thing." 

"Their dying mother knew nothing about the matter," per- 
sisted the Lark; "but why do you ask me, and then disbelieve 
what I say? You have neither faith nor trust." 

"Oh! I believe everything I am told," said the Caterpillar. 

" Nay, but you do not," replied the Lark; "you won't believe 
me even about the food, and yet that is but a beginning of what 
I have to tell you. Why, Caterpillar, what do you think those 
little eggs will turn out to be? " 

" Butterflies, to be sure," said the Caterpillar. 

" Caterpillars ! " sang the Lark; "and you '11 find it out in 
time;" and the Lark flew away, for he did not want to stay and 
contest the point with his friend. 

" I thought the lark had been wise and kind," observed the 
mild, green Caterpillar, once more beginning to walk round the 
eggs, " but I find that he is foolish and saucy instead. Perhaps 
he went up too high this time. Ah, it's a pity when people who 
soar so high are silly and rude nevertheless! Dear! I still won- 
der whom he sees and what he does up yonder." 



IN THE child's WORLD, 311 

" I would tell you if you would believe me,"' sang the Lark, 
descending once more. 

'' I believe everything I am told," reiterated the Caterpillar, 
with as grave a face as if it were a fact. 

" Then I '11 tell you something else," cried the lark; "for the 
best of my news remains behind: You will one day he a But- 
terfy yourself.'' 

" AA^retched bird!" exclaimed the Caterpillar, "you jest with 
my inferiority. Now you are cruel as well as foolish. Go away! 
I will ask your advice no more." 

" I told you you would not believe me," cried the Lark, nettled 
in his turn. 

"I believe everything that I am told," persisted the Cater- 
pillar; "that is" — and she hesitated — "everything that is rea- 
sonable to bel'eve. But to tell me that Butterflies' eggs are 
Caterpillars, and that Caterpillars leave off crawling and get 
wings, and become Butterflies! — Lark! you are too wise to 
believe such nonsense yourself, for you know it is impossible!" 

" I know no such thing," said the Lark, warmly. " AVhether 
I hover over the cornfields of earth, or go up into the depths of 
the sky, I see so many wonderful things, I know no reason why 
there should not be more. Caterpillar; it is because you 
crawl, because you never get beyond your cabbage leaf, that you 
call any thing impossible." 

" Nonsense!" shouted the Caterpillar. " I know what's pos- 
sible, and what's not possible, according to my experience and 
capacity, as well as you do. Look at my long, green body and 
these endless legs, and then talk to me about having wings and 
a painted feathery coat. Fool ! " — 

"And fool you! you would-be-wise Caterpillar!" cried the 
indignant Lark. " Fool, to attempt to reason about what you 
cannot understand! Do you not hear how my song swells with 
rejoicing as I soar upwards to the mysterious wonder-world 
above? Caterpillar; what comes to you from thence, receive, 
as /do, upon trust," 

" That is what you call "— 

" Faith," interrupted the Lark. 

" How am I to learn faith?" asked the Caterpillar. 



312 IX THE child's world. 



At that moment she felt sonietliing at her side. She looked 
round — eight or ten little green Caterpillars were moving about, 
and had already made a show of a hole in the cabbage leaf 
They had broken from the Butterfly's eggs! 

Shame and amazement filled our green friend's heart, but joy 
soon followed; for, as the first wonder was possible, the second 
might be so, too. "Teach me your lesson. Lark!" she would 
say; and the Lark sang to her of the wonders of the earth below 
and of the heaven above. And the Caterpillar talked all the 
rest of her life to her relations of the time .when she should be 
a Butterfly. 

But none of them believed her. She nevertheless had learned 
the Lark's lesson of faith, and when she was going into her 
chrysalis grave, she said: " I shall be a Butterfly some day!" 

But her relations thought her head was wandering, and they 
said, " Poor thing!" 

And when she was a Butterfly, and was going to die again, she 
said: " I have known many wonders — I have faith — I can trust 
even now for what shall come next." 

Margaret (tatty. 
In ^^ Parables from Nature.'^ 



I 



THE CATERPILLAR. 




To THE Teacuek: — 

Whoever has once had the pleasure i-f 
bringing the beautiful marvel of the cat- 
erpillar's metamorphosis to a child's 
notice will scarcely need any other 
incentive than the delight of that expe- 
rience to lead her to repeat it as often as 
possible. Perhaps there are some people who only know the wonder by 
hearsay, and accept it indifferently among other zoolouical facts. Let 
me tell you, friends, the world has a new delight to offer you. Do not 
forego it any longer. Get a box, fill it half full of earth and fasten a 
piece of netting over the top. 

When you see a caterpillar on plant or tree, capture him and place him 
in this box, taking care also to break off some leaves of that particular 
plant or tree for him to eat. Keep the caterpillar supplied with food, 
and then watch and wait, and you will surely be repaid for your trouble. 
The caterpillar which feeds on the milkweed is a very obliging 
creature. I remember how a dozen of them hung themselves under my 
window at the farmhouse; and some were even so kind as to split their 
old coats and drop them off' while we watched them. And when the 
marvelous chrysalis appeared !— vivid green with tiny spots of bright 
gold!— and when my first little butterfly crawled out, dripping and 
bedraggled looking, to be sure, but soon as gay a creature as ever spread 
wings! — ah ! tliere are few pleasures like the pleasure of that experience. 
This change of outward form, while the inner life continues uninter- 
ruptedly, is one of nature's most beautiful symbolisms, and every child 
should be in possession of it. 

While teacher and children are watching the miracle, the work and 
play in the kindergarten will, of course, illustrate the same idea. 

A good series in clay is first a leaf with tiny eggs upon it; then the 
caterpillar; then the chrysalis (or cocoon if your caterpillar makes one); 
the butterfly or moth is rather difficult, but is an interesting and valua- 
ble lesson. Model the parts separately. 

In the butterfly game, the change which is now made from "a little 
worm is on the ground " to " a caterpillar's on the ground " is a welcome 
one as being nearer the truth. A worm lives and dies a worm. It does 
not turn into a butterfly. 

Neither does the cocoon break up into ever so many butterflies or 
moths, as one could but infer from seeing the game as played in some 
kindergartens. "But," says one of these kindergartners, "it is so 



314 IN THE child's WOKLD. 

pretty, and it gives so many children sometliing to do in the game." 
"And tlien," says another, "we must not be too hteral. Children are 
natural poets. We must give them poetic interpretations." 

Are the kindergarten games, then, merely pretty spectacles or merely 
outlets for the effervescence of childhood? The teacher who finds noth- 
ing more in the games, and the one who thoughtlessly allows the playing 
of the games to degenerate into these, has missed a vital point in 
Frcehel's theory. 

The kindergarten surely provides ample scope for the development of 
the child's imagination. There will be no danger of hampering it, how- 
ever careful we are as to the accuracy of all the impressions we give in 
the plays and songs. And, if any impressions last, be sure that the false 
ones, given in our strivings against being too literal, will last as long as 
any of the others. 

To return to the part of the butterfly game which is under discussion. 
In some kindergartens the game is made a true representation as well as 
a charming play. 

After tlie butterfly has emerged, the winds whistle and blow the empty 
chrysalis about and break it to pieces. As the one butterfly from the 
chrysalis flits here and there seeking honey, it discovers other butterflies 
(children previously chosen) hiding among the flowers. 

Many other ways might be suggested, but, whatever may be the way 
in which this or any representative game is played, let it be one which is 
essentially true and according to nature. 

As to the untrue finale being more "poetic," is that really the ca.se? 
Ready to my hand I find a quotation from an essay " On Poetic Inter- 
pretation of Nature," by Prof. J. C. Shairp: — 

^^ Every neio province of knowledge which science coicquers, poetry may 
in turn enter into and possess. * * * * And here we see how liuely 
science and poetry may interact and minister to each other." 

Wordsworth also affirms that *^ the remotest discoveries of the chemist, 
the botanist and the mineralogist^'' (if familiarized to men) are " as proper 
ohjects of the poeVs art as any upon which it can he employed.''^ 

Shall we not, then, trust the word of critic and poet regarding these 

relations, and avoid putting science and poetry in opposition, when they 

may so beautifully agree? 

E. P. 
" The Kindergarten Magazivt." 



IN THE CHILD S AVOKT.I). 315 



THE TALK. 

We are going to have some pets in the kindergarten. When 
we keep pets we must be very careful to make them comfortable 
and liappy. 

What pets have you at home? What do they need? Food 
and shelter, for comfort; love, shown by kindness and petting, 
for happiness. 

The little pets which we shall have here will need food and 
air. The kindest thing we can do for them is to give them 
plenty of fresh leaves of just the kind they like; they do not 
seem to care for anything else. 

What shape is the caterpillar's body? What is it covered with? 
What colors do you see on it? How does it move? How many 
legs at the front part of its body? At the back part? Those 
at the front part are its real feet; the short, thick ones at the 
back are only folds of the skin to help the caterpillar to cling to 
leaves and stems, and to support his body as he crawls. 

Somebody with very sharp eyes may come and look at the side 
of the caterpillar and tell me what he sees. Little spots? Yes, 
spots which are not merely pretty but which are very necessary, 
for they are the caterpillar's breathing holes. How do ive 
breathe? (An opportunity comes here for a hygienic hint con- 
cerning breathing through the nostrils, so carefully lined with 
protecting hairs, instead of through the mouth.) 

How do fishes breathe? (Let the children have a picture of a 
fish and point out the gills. Ask again how the caterpillar 
breathes. Notice its small eyes and compare with the large and 
brilliant eye of the butterfly. The observation of the caterpillar 
should be carried on from day to day. If you do not succeed m 
being present when the skin is being cast, you will at least find 
the old skin in a little bunch somewhere in the box or jar; that 
is, unless your caterpillar belongs to the kind which eats its old 
clothes every time it comes out in new ones! The rewards of 
constant watching are well worth the trouble.) 

There are some things about caterpillars that our eyes are not 



316 IN THK UHILl/S WORLD. 

sharp enough to see; but the wise men have used glasses and 
found out many wonders. They tell us that some caterpillars 
have a spinning tube in the lower lip and two bags in the body 
out of which they get a silky stuff. This silky stuff comes out 
through the spinning tube and stiffens to a thread as soon as 
the air touches it. 

When this kind of caterpillar has eaten and grown all it can 
and is ready to make its chrysalis, it winds this tine, filmy thread 
all around itself till it is entirely shut in by a silken wall with 
no windows or doors, no opening anywhere. 

(Show cocoon.) Inside this snug cocoon the caterpillar makes 
its chrysalis. Should you think there was anything alive in the 
cocoon? Is it not a safe resting place for the caterpillar? And 
is it not wonderful that the little creature could make it? 

Other caterpillars make other kinds of cocoons. Some will 
wrap themselves about with leaves, fastening theni with the 
silky threads. Some of the hairy caterpillars pull the hairs out 
of their own bodies and weave them together. And some make 
comfortable and safe cocoons out of bits of wood, held together 
by the same home-made silk. 

The caterpillars which make these curious homes fur them- 
selves do not change into butterflies, but into moths, which are 
verv much like butterflies in some ways and different in others. 



TEACHER'S READING. 

The same as under " The Butteitiy." 

Larva?, - - - - - A. D. T. Whitney 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 
The Green House with Gold Nails ("Kindergarten Stones 

and Morning Talks''), . . . . ^. E. Wiltse 

A Funny Little Log House (" Little Folks in Feathers and 

Fur"), - - - - - - - ■ O. T. Miller 



IN THE child's WORLD. 817 



STORIES 

••SUCH A BEAUTY." 

" Cliip-chip-chee-ee-e, 
What shall our breakfast be-ee?" 

sang a mother bird, her bright eyes glancing here, there, every- 
where. 

'*0 mother! mother! See-ee! 
Here vipon the tree-ee-e," 

sang one of the young birds, peeping through the leufy branches 
and imitating his mother's tones as well as he could. 

The mother hopped nearer to the eager young bird and looked 
down. There she spied a plumii, big caterpillar of a handsome 
pale-green color and ornamented with bright little knobs of red, 
yellow and blue. 

■• (Jhip-cliip-cliee-ee, 
None of that for mc-ec," 

sang the mother bird in a most excited manner. And then she 
called her young birds to look at the caterpillar. She earnestly 
told them to notice Avell every mark upon it, for it was not at all 
good to eat, and they must never touch it. Not onlv was this 
kind of caterpillar disagreeable to the taste, but she had heard 
that it was poisonous. 

*^'Now tell me just how it looks," said tlie anxious mother, 
'*' so that I may bo sure that you know and will never try to 
catch this kind." 

So the young birds described the caterpillar, peering down so 
as to tell exactly how it looked. They said that it was like new 
leaves, or the lettuce in the garden; that it had some spots like 
tiny cherries, and some like the bluest of blueberries. '' It is 
very strange that this caterpillar should not be good to eat," 
said one of the young birds, " when it looks like so many things 
which are very good.'* 



318 IN THE child's WORLD. 

" See, mother, there are yellow seeds on its back, too! " chirped 
the other little bird. 

"They look like seeds, I know," said the mother; ''but of 
course they are not. All these gay colors and knobs will help 
you to remember the kind of caterpillar you are not to eat. I 
am glad it is such a beauty." Satisfied that her birdlings now 
knew the pretty caterpillar as an unsafe kind of food, she spread 
her wings and flew away, singing; — 

" Chip-chip-cliee-ee-e! 
Off to the apple tree-ee-e. 
Fri;it shall our breakfast be. 
Away, away with me." 

And the little ones followed, trying to keep up with her, and 
doing well, considering how short a time they had been out of 
their nest and on their wings, so to speak. 

What about the caterpillar all this time? Oh! it had been 
placidly eating as usual, not at all disturbed by the bird-talk 
going on above. Very well contented that its gay coat should be 
such a good protection, it wriggled itself along farther and began 
to nibble a fresh leaf. 

A few days later the caterpillar, whose appetite had [failed, 
began to feel very strangely. 

*' I feel as if I should like to hide and sleep," it thought. 
*' I must be ill — I am so" — 

" you beauty! " said a voice. " You look as if you had tiny 
red and yellow and blue beads sewed on your back. I wonder 
whether Aunt Helen will not tell me a story about you. Crawl 
along here and get on this stick — that's right — I won't hurt you." 

The caterpillar clung to the stick, and the little boy started 
to get down from the tree into which he had climbed "just for 
fun." But getting down was not as easy as climbing up had 
been, and the little boy had to leave the caterpillar on the tree 
after all. 

" I '11 ask Aunt Helen to come," he said to himself. " Then 
I can climb and get the caterpillar and reach it down to her." 
So saying he ran off to the house. 

" Yps," said the caterpilla", on finding itself alone again, 




319 



IN THE CHILD S WOKLlJ. 



" I think I /iac? better hide." And it did. It crawled off a little 
way from where the boy had left it, and began to spin imme- 
diately. 

By the time the little boy had reached the house and had 
found Aunt Helen, and she had finislied some Avork which she 
could not leave, and they had both reached the tree at the end 
of the garden, the caterpillar had wound a mesh of silk about 
itself and could no longer be seen. The little boy was greatly 
puzzled as he looked in vain for the green caterpillar. 

" It was such a big fellow, auntie — as big as your thumb. I 
thought it would be too clumsy to get far away. I wish I could 
find it. I never saw such a pretty caterpillar — such a j)erfect 
beauty!" 

" I know where it is," said Aunt Helen. " I see a cocoon up 
there, and I am sure your caterpillar must be in it. Just break 
that twig off gently — that one which has something fastened to 
it — and reach it down to me. That is part of the story," she 
added, with a smile, as she saw how puzzled the little boy was. 

"Oh! is it?" he exclaimed, hastening to break off the twig 
and to hand it to her. In a twinkling he was down from the 
tree, all eagerness for the explanation. So they sat in the swing 
and Aunt Helen told him the whole story then and there; and 
several months later, the little boy ran to his auntie, saying:- 
" The story has come true! There's a beautiful moth, oh! such 
a beauty! flying about in my room, and the cocoon is empty."* 

E. P. 



THE FARMER. 




To THE Teacher: — 

This talk treats more especially of the farmer's spring work of prepa- 
ration, since we reviewed, during thfe harvest season, the farmer's sum- 
mer work and dwelt upon its results. 

For city children, have as many pictures of farm life as i^ossible. A 
box in the window planted with corn and beans will be a miniature Held 
and the children will feel themselves farmers in the care of it. 

Watching the growth of seeds planted by themselves will be a delight- 
ful experience to the children. 

Besides the seeds planted in earth, some shovild be grown without 
earth, that the roots may be observed Let a piece of cotton batting 
float on some water in a tumbler, and lay two or three beans on the cot- 
ton. Replenish the water when necessary. Beans are very satisfactory 
because of their size and familiarity. Peas are also good, and corn will 
give an example of the contrasting endogenous plants. 



322 



IN THE CHILD S ^VOKLD. 



THE TALK. 





I am thinking of a worker — one 
who works out of doors instead of 
in a shop. 

Can yon guess what worker I 
mean? It is the farmer. Do yon 
remember any one we have talked 
of lately who wished to be a 
farmer? (Froebel.) 
Let us play we are all visiting at a farm 
in the springtime. What shall we hear 
early in the morning? The cocks crow- 
ingj-the pigeons cooing, other birds sing- 
ing, the cattle lowing, being so eager to 
get out to pasture — all the farmyard noises. 
What shall we see? The big barn and 
farmyard where the animals live, the 
pigeon house on its tall pole, the orchard 
where the trees are standing in even rows, 
the gardens for flowers and vegetables, 
great fields stretching away, and woods in 
the distance. (Some of the children who 
have been to the country will be ready to 
contribute to this description. Contrast 
with city sights and sounds.) 

What places in the city look a little like the country? The 
Common, Public Garden, Charles-bank, etc. (whatever parks 
the children are familiar with), because of the trees and grass 
and space. 

The people at the farm are up very early ; for the cattle and 
poultry must be fed and the cows milked, and the farmer wishes 
to get out to his fields very soon. He has so much to do. 

In the spring he must plough his fields — this breaks the soil 
wliich has been getting hard and packed together all winter — 



IN THE child's WORLD. 333 

then he must harrow them ''to make the ground more soft and 
loose." 

(Describe plough and harrow, and speak of the usefulness of 
the horse to the farmer.) 

When the ground is ready the farmer must sow his seed. 
What kinds of seeds do you think he will sow? Grass seed, 
barley and wheat, oats, buckwheat, etc. Some kinds he sowed 
last autumn, and they have been waiting all winter for the spring 
warmth and the spring rains before they sprouted and sent out 
their green blades. 

How will these crops be useful? What else will the farmer 
probably plant? Corn, beans, potatoes, etc., and sometimes 
trees. What do all seeds need to make them grow? Earth, sun- 
shine, rain. 

Besides the ploughing and the j^lanting and the raking, the 
farmer has other spring work to do. He must cut off the dead 
and useless branches of the trees in the orchard and of the vines 
where the grapes grow. Very early in the spring he gathers sap 
from some of the trees. Who can tell what kind of trees, and 
what he makes of the sap? 

What tools does the farmer use? Plough, harrow, spade, hoe, 
rake, pitchfork, etc. Tell some other things he needs in his 
work. Ladders to enable him to reach the high branches of the 
trees, baskets and barrels for his eggs and fruit and vegetables, 
milk pails and milk cans, churn, etc., etc. (Many of these can 
be made in clay and other kindergarten materials.) 

Tell all the things we use which come from the farm. Do we 
not use some of these things every day? Let us not forget how 
much we have for which we must thank the good farmer. 



'624: IN" THE child's wokld. 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Nature, -----... Emerson 

My Summer hi a Garden, - - - - -CD. Warner 

Hiawatha's Fastinir, / 
Blessing the Corntields, j - - - - - Longjellow 

Tlie Barefoot Boy, --.... Whittier 

Farmyard Song, - - - - - J. T. Tnmhridge 

Up at a Villa, Down in a City, _ . . . /z. Broioning 

The Rescue of an Old Place, - - - - Munj C. Bobbins 

Rosanna, -.-.._ j//^.j, Edgeworth 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 
Queen Hildegarde, ----- Laura Bichards 

The Farmyard (" Kindergarten Stories and Morning Talks''), ^'. E. Wiltse 
The Farmer and his Sons, ----- ^Esop 



bTORlES. 

A BARNYAED TALK. 

{From the Norwegian.) 

" Cock-a-doodle-doo!" crowed the Cock early in the morning. 
" I am the cleverest of all on the farm. Every morning I wake 
the people up so that the children can get to school at the right 
time, and not have to stay in for being late. That is the reason 
the children like me so much. They feed me with corn and 
bread every day." 

" Cluck, cluck I" said the Hen. ''You ought not to be so 
conceited, little father. " You never give the children anything 
to eat, but /do! Almost every day I lay an egg; and with my 
eggs pancakes are made for the children, and they like jDancakes 
so much that they would gladly eat them every day. Under- 
stand, then, that I am cleverer than you.'' 

"Mew, mew, mew," said Pussy-cat, who had heard tbe Cock 
and Hen talking. " It is really I who am the cleverest," said 
she. " If I did not kill all the rats and mice, then those wicked 
animals v/ould come and eat up all the butter and cheese and all 



IX THE guild's WOKLD. 825 

the bread and cake, so that the children would have to go to 
school without any luncheon and would sit there and starve! 
That is the reason the children and I are such good friends. 
They give me milk and let me sit on their laps." 

"■ Bow, wow, wow!" said the Dog. He had put his head out 
of the kennel when he heard how Pussy was boasting. "■ How 
do you think things would go if I did n't watch over the house 
night and day? So I am surely the most important one on the 
farm." 

Just then up came the farmer, who had overheard everything. 

" You are all kind and useful," said he. And he scattered 
corn to the cock and hen, and gave Puss a saucer of milk, and 
the dog a bone to gnaw. 

Then they were all happy and satisfied and stopped disputing. 

Emilie Poulsson. 



THE FARMER AND THE BIRDS. 

Mr. and Mrs. Brown Thrush thought themselves very fortu- 
nate when they found a large brush heap in which they could 
make their nest. But one day, after the nest was finished and 
the eggs were laid, Mr. Thrush heard some news which made 
him change his mind. 

" Oh! my dear," he said to his wife when she cjime home after 
her daily exercise, " we have made a mistake. This brush heap 
that we thought was such a good place for our nest, is to be 
burned to-morrow! What shall we do? Our eggs will all be 
ruined ! " 

"Oh, no!" said Mrs. Thrush, "they will not be harmed. I 
will watch for the master to-morrow and show him that I have 
a nest here, and he will not burn it up. Have you not noticed 
how many birds there are on the place? The master never 
allows any one to hurt them. In fact, the red birds and mock- 
ing birds, who stay here all winter, tell me that he puts food 
where they can get it when they can find none themselves." 

"Then," said Mr. Thrush, "perhaps he will spare our nest. 
You can try, at any rate." 



326 IN THK child's wokld. 



So the next day, when the master came near the brush heap, 
Mrs. Thrush flew to a tree growing close by, and then back to 
her nest again, several times. 

" Kobert," said the master to the man who helped him on the 
farm, '^' see that thrush! She acts as if she had a nest in that 
brush heap. Yes, she has! I can see it. It will not do to burn 
the brush now, for that would destroy her nest; and yet I need 
to plough this ground for the late corn that I want to raise. 
I know what we can do. Get four long sticks from the woodpile 
and we will move the brush away." 

Robert brought the sticks; then, by placing themselves on 
opposite sides of the brush, crossing the sticks and putting them 
under the heap, the two men moved it to a little distance.* After 
that the horse was fastened to the plough and the ground was 
ploughed. 

Then the farmer and his man planted the corn. They marked 
off the ground into squares of four feet each, made a hole at each 
corner of the squares, put three or four kernels of corn into each 
hole, drew the earth over the corn with a hoe and pressed it 
down with the foot to make it firm, so that it might keep moist 
longer after the next rain. Meantime, Mrs. Thrash, anxious to 
cover her eggs, had flown back to the nest as soon as the men 
had left the brush heap; and she sat looking contentedly on at 
their work. 

Some days later a rainstorm came. The bird's eggs did not 
get wet, however, for these were kept warm and dry under the 
mother's wings; but the raindrops trickled down into the earth 
and gave the kernels of corn a drink. After drinking the water 
the kernels began to swell. They kept swelling more and more 
until at last a baby leaf burst the skin, pushed its way up and 
came out of the ground. The little leaf was folded tightly at 
first, but after a while it spread itself out. Then the stalk 
began to grow longer; and by and by another leaf came on the 
opposite side of the stalk. The third leaf grew on the same side 
of the stalk as the first; and on which side do you suppose. the 
fourth leaf came out? 

* A fact. 




The Farmer. 



327 



328 IN THE child's world. 

"On the same side as the second — just as it is in our 
weaving!" 

Yes. And now can you tell me why the corn did not have 
two leaves instead of one at a time? 

'' When we soaked a kernel of corn and cut it open, we found 
only one baby leaf in it, besides the food for the baby plant to 
eat until it could feed itself from the earth and the aii". So it 
could not make more than one leaf at a time." 

You are right. But I should have told you that the corn was 
making roots at the same time that it made stalk and leaves, so 
that it had roots by which to suck in food from the earth, and 
leaves by which to suck in food from the air; and with all this 
food it grew very fast. The master took care that the weeds 
should not choke it. 

As soon as the corn was up a few inches, the master directed 
Eobert to go over the ground with a harrow. This destroyed all 
the weeds that had started at the same time as the corn. Then 
Robert ploughed the ground in again, but was careful not to 
throw the earth on the young corn. After that the farmer kept 
the weeds from growing by using the cultivator once in a while 
until the corn was as high as his shoulder; then it was strong 
enough not to need his help any more. 

While the corn was still growing, Mrs. Thrush heard one 
day a queer little hammering sound in the nest; and she said 
to her husband: "Oh! now our eggs are ready to hatch. I 
am so glad! But I must help the little ones to come out of 
their shells!" 

So, with the mother's help, the shells were broken and the 
little birds came out. Then began a busy time for the parent 
birds. The nestlings had great ajopetites, and Mr. and Mrs. 
Thrush brought them many a bug and worm which would have 
hurt the farmer's corn and other crops if the birds had not eaten 
them. The parent birds thus helped the farmer who had been 
so kind to them. 

When the corn was large enough the tassels came and the ears 
of corn began to grow. The tassels are bunches of long, silky 
fringe, and each ear has a tassel hanging out of its husk. A 
husk is made of several large, thick leaves; these are folded 



IX THE child's world. 329 

around an ear of corn and keep it from being spoiled by the wet 
or eaten by squirrels or crows while it is growing. 

Mrs. Thrush taught her little ones to fly, after which they 
could catch worms and bugs for themselves. When they were 
old enough they left the nest, but they stayed on the farm. And 
when the corn was ripe and the farmer was gathering it so that 
it could be stored in the barn for winter use, the thrushes sang 
their prettiest songs, as if to thank the farmer for saving their 
lives before they were hatched. 

Josephine Jarvis. 

Cobden, III. 



LITTLE GUSTAVA. 



Little Gustava sits in the sun, 
Safe in the porch, and the little drops run 
From the icicles under the eaves so fast. 
For the hright spring sun shines warm at last, 
And glad is little Gustava. 

She wears a quaint little scarlet cap. 
And a little green bowl she holds in her lap, 
Filled with bread and milk to the brim. 
And a wreath of marigolds round the rim; 
"Ha! ha!" laughs little Gustava. 

Up comes her little gray coaxing cat, 
Witli her little pink nose, and she mews, " What's that?' 
Gustava feeds her — she begs for more; 
And a little brown hen walks in at the door; 
" Good day!" cries little Gustava. 

She scatters crumbs for the little brown hen. 
There comes a rush and a flutter, and then 
Down fly her little white doves, so sweet, 
With their snowy wings and their crimson feet. 
" Welcome!" cries little Gustava. 

So dainty and eagfer they pick up the crumbs. 
But who is this through the doorway comes? 
Little Scotch terrier, little dog Rags, 
Looks in her face, and his funny tail wags. 
'* Ha! ha!" lausjlis little Gustava. 



330 IN THE child's WORLD. 

" You want some breakfast, too?" and down 
She sets lier bowl on the brick floor, brown; 
And little dog Rags drinks up her milk, 
While she strokes his shaggy locks, like silk; 
" Dear Eags," says little Gustava. 

Waiting without stood sparrow and crow, 
Cooling their feet in the melting snow. 
" Won't you come in, good folk?" she cried. 
Rut they were too bashful and stayed outside, 
Though " Pray come in!" ci'ied Gustava. 

So the last she threw them, and knelt on the mat, 
With doves and biddy and dog and cat. 
And her mother came to the open house-door: 
" Dear little daughter, I bring you some more, 
My merry little Gustava." 

Kitty and terrier, biddy and doves. 
All things harmless Gustava loves; 
The shy, kind creatures 'tis joy to feed. 
And oh! her breakfast is sweet indeed 
To happy little Gustava! 

Celia Thaxter. 
EouglUon, Mifflin <& Co. 



THE HEN AND CHICKENS. 

To THE Teacher: — 

Witli city children such subjects as this call for much illustration. A 
young chicken was once the pet and delight at a city kindergarten. 
Sometimes it is practicable to take the children to see a " Good Mother 
Hen " and her brood. At any rate, pictures of the common animals and 
farmyard scenes may be had for the trouble of collecting, and, if mounted 
on cardboard, will be useful for a long time. 



THE TALK. 



We have talked about the little birds who fly in the air and 
live in the trees. Now let us talk of some other friends who 
are dressed in leathers and have wings, but who are larger and 
live on the ground. Can you guess who these friends are? We 
shall find them if we go to the farmyard. 

(If the children name the 
inhabitants of the farmyard, 
the hen and chickens will surely 
be mentioned. In comparing 
the hen and smaller birds, note 
particularly the hen's heavy 
body and short wings, and 
consequently feeble flight, 
and the strong toes for scratching.) 

What kind of a noise does the hen make? Does she lay eggs? 
Build a nest? Not a snug, pretty nest as the little birds do. 
Usually the farmer gives her some hay in a box or barrel when 
she wants a nest; but sometimes the hen chooses a place herself 
up in the hayloft in the barn, where it is all dark and quiet, or 
perhaps she finds a sheltered place in the field among the grasses 
which will hide her safely. 




332 IM THE child's WORLD. 

When she has laid ten or twelve eggs, she sits on the nest day 
after day and night after night. She will scarcely leave the eggs 
to get what she needs to eat and drink. How long do you think 
she sits there? Twenty-one days. And after all this time what 
happens? One of these days the hen hears a faint little tapping 
and then a cracking noise, and one of the eggshells breaks and 
out comes a tiny, weak chicken! And soon another breaks its 
shell and comes out, and so on until, instead of ten white eggs 
lying in the nest, there are ten cunning little chickens nestling 
in the hay and cuddliug under the mother hen's soft feathers. 

The chickens are dressed in very soft, fine feathers, called 
down. This down is often bright yellow. As the mother hen 
walks about with her dear little chickens she seems to say: 
" This is why I was willing to sit still so long on those eggs of 
mine. Is n't this Joyful?" 

When the farmer sees the happy mother hen, he is glad, too; 
but he is afraid the chickens will get tired if they follow her 
everywhere. So he puts the mother hen into a nice coop. The 
chickens run in and out of the coop, and their mother watches 
them and calls to them if any danger is near. A\^hen she calls 
them, or when anything frightens them, they run into the coop 
and cuddle under her wings. Don't you know how glad you are 
to run to your mother when you are hurt or frightened or in any 
trouble? I suppose the chickens feel as safe and comfortable 
with the mother hen's wings over them as little children do in 
their mother's arms. 

When night comes the mother hen clucks to her chickens and 
they creep under her wings to sleep. By and by, when they are 
big enough, they will roost on perches at night and run about all 
day, scratching and pecking, finding insects and worms and 
seeds to eat, as the other big fowls do. But while they are little 
their mother watches them and takes care of them night and day. 

" Where do the little chickens run 

When they are afraid? 
Out of the light, out of the sun, 

Into the dark, into the shade, 
Under their mother's downy wing, 
Ni> longer afraid of anything," 



IN THE child's WORLD, 833 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Winners in Life's Race (Chaps. VI, VII), - - Arabella Buckley 

The Song of Life (Chaps. IV, VI), ... Margaret Morley 

Hen Music (" Wood Notes Wild ''), - - Simeon Pease Cheney 

Cliickens, ------- Gail Hamilton 

Explanation and Play of " Beckoning the Chickens," - Froebel 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 
The Clucking Hen ("Aunt Effie's Rhymes"). 
Snowball ("Stories for Kindergarten and Home"). 



STORIES. 

THE LOST CHICKEN. 

• Peepsie was lost — Peepsie, the one little chicken which Mrs. 
Cackle, his mother, was trying to raise; and Mrs. Cackle was 
very lonely and sad. She stepped about the farmyard, lifting 
up her feet very slowly and looking in every nook and corner 
and calling, " Cluck, cluck," in a loud, anxious way. 

The old barn cat washed every one of her kittens over twice 
as soon as she heard the distressing news, so as to be sure that 
none of her babies were lost. The cows called their little bossy 
calves close to them, and every sheep sought out her own lamb- 
kin, glad enough to hear it clll, "Ma-a! Ma-a!" All the 
mothers told their children again and again not to stray away 
lest they should get lost, like poor little Peepsie. 

In the meantime Mrs. Cackle, having looked everywhere in 
the farmyard and having made sure that Peepsie was not there, 
started oS to search outside. The first place to which she went 
was the hayfield. The grass was cut and spread out to d.-y. 
Mrs. Cackle thought Peepsie might be hiding under it, so she 
began to look and to call. There! What was that? Something 
moved, and Mrs. Cackle rushed after it. Was it her chicken? 
Listen and you shall hear. Mrs. Cackle soon saw the little thing 
plainly as it went across a bare place in the field, and she imme- 



334 IN THE child's wokld. 

diately stopped running. It was a baby, surely; not half so big 
as Peepsie, however, and with a long thread of a tail stretching 
out behind it. " Why, it is only one of Mrs. Field-mouse's 
children," said Mrs. Cackle in disappointment, and as she turned 
back to tell Mrs. Field-mouse, she met that mother coming to 
find her child. Mrs. Field-mouse could not tell where Peepsie 
was, but had seen a company of two-legged little folks going 
down the lane a short time before; so Mrs. Cackle thanked her 
and passed on. 

The lane led past the orchard. Hark ! Mrs. Cackle heard a 
faint cry. "Can that be Peepsie?" she thought, and into the 
orchard she went, guided by the sound. There, under one of 
the apple trees, lay another baby; but, alas! this was not Peepsie 
either, though it had feathers and a bill and two legs, and its 
chirp still sounded something like Peepsie's to Mrs. Cackle, even 
when she was so near. But when this baby moved it hopped on 
both legs at once, while Peepsie, of course, used his legs quite 
properly, one after the other. 

Mrs. Eobin, the baby's mother, circled watchfully about while 
Mrs. Cackle stood near the little one. " Peepsie lost?" chirped 
Mrs. Robin when the poor hen told her story. " Oh, how worried 
you must be! But I am sure he is not in the orchard, for my 
mate and I have been about here all the morning, teaching our 
little ones to fly, and we should have seen him." 

Poor Mrs. Cackle decided that she would go on farther down 
the lane to look for her stray darling; and the happy Robin 
family continued their flying 'lesson, though Mrs. Robin felt 
very sorry about Peepsie and kept a sharji lookout for liim. 

Down the lane went Mrs. Cackle, but before she had gone 
very far she met Mother Duck. Now Mother Duck had gone 
out so early from the farmyard that she had not heard of Peep- 
sie's being lost, and when Mrs. Cackle told her she said: "Alack! 
Alack! But perhaps, friend Cackle, your Peepsie has been with 
my children this morning. I '11 call the whole company here and 
you may see for yourself." So Mrs. Cackle looked at all the long 
train of little folks which was following Mother Duck. One by 
one they filed past her, but alas for J^Irs. Cackle; she knev/ c,t 
the first glance at each one that it was not Peepsie; for, instead 



IN THp] child's world. 335 

of Peepsie's sharp-pointed bill. Mother Duck's children had 
broad, flat bills which Mrs. Cackle thought must be very diffi- 
cult to eat with, and instead of pretty, slender, separate toes 
useful for scratching, these little folks had their toes joined to- 
gether by a sort of skin; and then they walked so awkwardly — 
at least, so Mrs. Cackle thought. "My Peepsie is not there," 
she said to Mother Duck. "^ You are sure, are you? ^^ replied 
the Duck, "'because if you are not, we could go to our pond and 
theji we could tell; for all my own children can swim, and I 
believe yours are like yourself — very timid about water." Mrs. 
Cackle was sure, however, so she said "Good-bye" and "Thank 
you " to Mother Duck, and turned back toward the farmyard, 
while " Mother Duck and her family large " went to their pond. 
"For," said the web-footed mother, " the very sight of a hen 
always makes me feel so glad that I can swim! 1 want to get 
into the water immediately and enjoy the use of my powers." 

Unhappy Mrs. Cackle returned to the farmyard more worried 
than when she had started out. She now felt almost certain 
that some harm had happened to Peepsie. At the farmyard 
gate, however, she saw the farmer's little girl coming toward her. 

Little Bess stooped and put her hands to the ground, and out 
ran the lost Peepsie — a wee bit frightened but not at all hurt. 
" There's your baby, Mrs. Cackle," said Bess; " I took him into 
the house to make a little visit, but mother said you would be 
lonely, so I have brought him back." 

After that, whenever Peepsie disappeared, Mrs. Cackle used 
to go and cluck near the kitchen door, and then Bess would let 
Peepsie go back to her; and Mrs. Cackle used to say to herself: 
" I do not wonder that she likes my baby, for when Peepsie was 
lost and I saw Mrs. Field-mouse's child and Mrs. Eobin's and 
Mother Duck's, I certainly found that there was not one of them 
like 1711710 ! " 

Emilie Poulsson. 



336 IN THE child's avorld. 



PE- WEE'S LESSON. 

In a large farmyard, in one of the whitest coops, Pe-wee lived 
with his mother. Pe-wee was a soft, downy little chicken; his 
feet were of the yellowest, and his eyes sparkled so that they 
made you want to look at them all the time, they were so bright; 
and then he had such a cunning way of winking, and of keeping 
one eye shut for a long time, while he looked all about with the 
other. Pe-wee had a good mother who loved her little chicken 
very dearly and watched closely that everything was for his com- 
fort. When the little fellow was awakened by the crowing of 
the king of the farmyard, he would take a peep from under his 
mother's wings and watch the great sun grow smaller the higher 
up it came in the sky, and then he would look at the grass so 
refreshed after its night's bath. 

•' Everything is so lovely in this world," thought Pe-wee, while 
eating his good breakfast of moistened meal; " is there any 
other chicken so happy as I?" 

One day some new neighbors — very young people with their 
motber — came to live close by; they were noisy, but so good- 
natured that Pe-wee longed to make their acquaintance; he was 
certain that he should like them. The mothers soon were fast 
friends; and although one was a duck, their friendship, as well 
as that of their children, progressed famously. They would 
have long talks and many pleasant walks together, and all went 
well until one warm morning they came to a pool of water; the 
little ducks, with their mother, at once jumped in, and were 
soon floating gracefully on the top of the water. Pe-wee wanted 
a merry time, too; he would not attempt anything like swim- 
ming, for he had never seen his mother swim, but he ran along 
to the water's edge, and, putting his wee feet in, enjoyed the 
coolness. But the ground on which he stood sloped very gently, 
and it must have been a little slippery, for Pe-wee felt himself 
sliding very slowly but surely toward the deep water. Poor, 
frightened little Pe-wee! He could only call a few times very 
feebly '' Peep, peep!" and when his mother turned to look, she 
saw her baby certainly going to his death. Oh! how fast she 
ran to the water's edge, flapping her wings and crying piteously. 



IK THE child's WORLD. 337 

Mother Duck, seeing the trouble, swam quickly to the spot 
and gave Pe-wee a push toward the bank with her broad beak, 
which sent him up on the dry grass. Pe-wee followed his mother 
home, walking very quietly and very slowly; indeed, he could 
not have walked fast, for he was water-soaked and stiff. I think 
the old hen knew this, for she was a most thoughtful mother; 
and I think, too, she was sorry for her child, who never uttered 
a peep the whole way. As they neared home, the mother turned 
and said: " Never forget, my child, that some are made to go 
on the water, and some to stay on dry land I " 

When supper was finished, our little friend stood apart, think- 
ing and winking. The feathered people were all going to bed; 
first one hen and then another, with a loud cluck, cluck, would 
fly to a bar of her own choosing, and settle herself for the night. 
The flowers in the distance seemed tired, too; some had even 
closed their cups, and the summer breeze was rocking them 
gently to sleep; the buzzing insects were gone, and the sun was 
fast going. Still little Pe-wee stood there, his face toward the 
sunset. 

" It is bedtime," said his mother; ''but tell me first what my 
little chick is thinking of?" 

Pe-wee went slowly to his mother, and just before hiding him- 
self under her sheltering wing, he said: " I was thinking, dear 
mother, that some are made to go on the water, and some to 
stay on dry land." 

" IStories for the Kindergarten and the Home." 



THE STORY OF SPECKLE. 

Her name was Speckle because her white feathers were 
speckled all over with black. She had just as many eggs in her 
nest as you have "merry little men" on your hands, and her 
nest was in a wooden box in the barn. The box was filled with 
hay, so it was soft and warm for the eggs to lie on. There was 
something soft and warm over the eggs, too. What do you think 
that was? Why, Speckle herself! There she sat on the nest, 
having stepped in very carefully, so as not to break the eggs. 



338 IN THE child's avohld. 



All day she stayed there; and even when the cows and horses 
came into the barn, and the other hens went to roost for the 
night. Speckle sat as still as ever, caring for nothing but to keep 
the eggs warm. 

The next morning, before the farmer came to the barn, Dobbin, 
the big horse, poked his nose out of his stall and neighed to 
Speckle. 

''I never saw you there before," said he. '''What are you 
doing?" 

" I am keeping my eggs warm," said Speckle cheerily. 

"Moo-o!" said the old red cow. ''Are you not in a hurry 
to get out into the fields where the new grass is so fresh and 
green?" 

"Oh, no!" said Speckle. "I M'ould not leave my eggs. I 
must stay here and keep them warm." 

By and by the farmer came into the barn. 

" Why, is that little Speckle?" said he, walking up to the 
corner where the box was. Speckle had never been afraid of the 
farmer before, but now she felt so anxious about her precious 
eggs that she made a queer noise in her throat and bristled up 
her feathers. 

" There, there," said the farmer kindly, stepping away. " I 
won't touch your eggs. Don't be afraid of me; " and he went 
about his work in the barn. 

The cows were milked and turned out to pasture; the horse 
was harnessed to the cart and went out to do his day's work. 

The barn was very quiet. Speckle was left alone, but only for 
a short time. Fritz, the farm dog, strolled in, and locked at 
her with surprise. 

" The rest of the hens are having their breakfast," said he-. 
" Little Phoebe is giving them a regular feast of corn. Hurry, 
or you will not be in time!" 

"I cannot go," said Speckle, though she was really very 
hungry. " I must sit here and keep my eggs warm.'" 

Fritz was so astonished that he did not know what to say. 

" I suppose I shall have to go sometime," said Speckle, "for I 
must not starve; but I can get along for awhile yet." 

Fritz put out his paws and stretched himself, and then lay 




Speckle and the Swallow. 



339 



340 IN THE CHILI/S WORLD. 

down on the sunny bam floor to think; but it was so comfortable 
that he fell asleep instead. 

Not long after some swallows flew into the barn, and one of 
them, swooping down with a sudden dive, came so close to 
Speckle that her swift wings fanned the patient sitter. Speckle 
was startled, but only for an instant, for the swallow folded her 
wings and rested on the edge of the box, looking at Speckle in a 
friendly way. 

" I know why you sit there,"' said she. " Is n't it a beautiful 
secret, — the secret of the eggs? My mate and I have almost 
finished mending our nest — one we found up high there — and I 
shall soon have some eggs to keep warm just as you have." 

Twittering thus the swallow seized a wisp of hay and darted 
away, evidently feeling too busy to make a longer visit. 

Speckle looked after her, with bright eyes, but the swallow was 
soon out of sight in a dim corner far above Speckle's head. 

The hours passed and it was night again. Speckle had only 
been off her nest once to get a little food and water when she 
was so hungry and thirsty that she could not wait any longer. 
Her legs felt very stiff and cramped, and it seemed strange to 
her to be sitting there on a nest all by herself, instead of being 
on the perch in the henhouse witli her friends. But she was 
contented and glad, and felt that there was nothing in the 
world that could make her leave her precious eggs. 

The next day little Phoebe came running into the barn. 

" Where are you. Speckle?" said she, peering about in the 
corners. "Oh, here you are, you dear thing! Father said last 
night that you had a nest here. I 've brought you some break- 
fast and a nice little pan of water." 

Speckle really did not know how to say "thank you," but she 
felt like it, I assure you, not only that day but many times after, 
for little Phoebe came every day and brought corn or meal and 
filled the little pan with fresh water, leaving them very near to 
the wooden box so that Speckle had only to hop out to get them, 
and could be back again on her eggs in a trice, instead of having 
to look all about for something to eat. 

The old kind of life, when Speckle had run about the farm all 
day and roosted on the perch at night, seemed long past; and it 



IN THE child's WOKLD. 341 



was now three weeks that she had been living in this new way — 
sitting on her nest night and day and with kind little Phoebe 
bringing her what she needed to eat and drink. 

And now at the end of the three long weeks — twenty-one days 
— a most wonderful thing happened. 

Speckle heard a faint little sound which seemed to come from 
the eggs beneath her breast. It was certainly like the sound of 
an eggshell being broken. Speckle listened and waited. Soon 
she actually felt something moving beneath her and then she 
knew instantly what had happened. Do you know? 

A little chicken had come out of one of the eggs. It had been 
growing inside the shell all the twenty-one days, until, being 
ready for life in the world, it had broken its shell and crept out! 
Before long there were several others fidgeting about in the nest, 
as one after another they broke open the pretty white houses in 
which they had lived so long; and at last there were ten cunning 
baby chickens covered with bright yellow down, stepping about 
on their wee bits of legs and staring at the new world with round, 
black eyes. 

Speckle could scarcely contain herself for joy. All these 
pretty creatures were hers — her very own ! She began to cluck 
softly — a little song she had never sung before and yet knew 
perfectly from the love in her heart. And the little chickens as 
they listened, nestling under their mother's soft breast, chirped 
in answer; and though all they said was " peep, peep," it made 
Speckle happy to hear them. 

After she had cuddled them long enough and they were ready 
to take a walk, Speckle started out as proud and happy as a hen 
could be. Fortunately the barn was not far from the house, or 
it would have been too long a walk for the chickens. What a 
walk that was! Speckle found something to cluck about every 
step of the way, and the chickens looked in wonder at all the 
strange new things. They found it a great comfort to keep call- 
ing to their mother and to run very close to her many times. 

On the way from the barn to the house they met the farmer 
driving old Dobbin, Speckle clucked loudly to the chickens for 
fear one might get in the road and under the horse's feet. This 
attracted the farmer's attention. 



343 IN THE child's world. 

"Ho, ho! Speckle I That's a fine brood, upon my word," 
said he, counting the ten. 

Dobbin said nothing, but rolled his eyes around toward Speckle 
with an expressive glance which meant as much as the farmer's 
kind words. 

Speckle led her yellow train on toward the farmhouse. The 
pasture was on one side of the road and Speckle chose to walk 
on that side, hoping that some of the- cows would see her. Yes! 
Lady Jane, the oldest, and the leader of the herd, was standing 
near the bars. Again Speckle clucked very loudly to her 
chickens, for she was afraid they might run into the pasture. 
Lady Jane looked up from the tender grass she was crop- 
ping. She made no attempt at speaking, any more than 
Dobbin had, but by the way she put out her head and took 
several deep breaths, and switched her tail, Speckle knew tiiat 
Lady Jane noticed her chickens with due astonishment and 
admiration. 

But Fritz, the dog, was more surprised than either the horse or 
the cow, for he had only been on the farm a short time, and these 
were the first baby chickens he had ever seen. He thought it 
must be that Speckle had found a whole troop of canary birds 
like the pretty creature which lived in the cage and which 
Phoebe loved so much. So off he ran ahead of Speckle, barking 
loudly. The chickens were greatly frightened at this noisy 
monster, and ran to their mother — in front of her, behind her, 
and under her, in their panic; but she clucked soothingly and 
presently succeeded in quieting them. So when Phcjebe opened 
the door to see what Fritz was barking at. Speckle and her 
brood were walking quite properly across the dooryard, and 
Fritz stood wagging his tail and looking up into Phcebe's face, 
as if to say: " There! Are you not glad I called you? " 

Phoebe shouted with surprise and delight. She was soon close 
to Speckle and was so quiet and gentle that Speckle could not 
be afraid of her very long, and even the chickens forgot to be 
afraid when Phoebe brought a nice pan of meal for them. 

While they were eating this, the farmer came up carrying a 
new coop. He set it down under a cherry tree. 

"0 father! is that for Speckle?" asked Phoebe. 



IN THE child's WOULD. 343 



"' Yes, it is for Speckle," stiid the farmer. '' She avouUI trot 
those chickens all over the farm if I did not ])ut her ir.N> a coop." 

So, before Speckle knew what was going on, she four. 1 herself 
looking out between the slats of the coop. She called anxiously 
to her chickens, and though they ran about wildly for a little, 
they soon found their way into the coop and under her wings. 
They rested there a few minutes, but dear! dear! there was so 
much to see outside and they were such lively little creatures 
that before long they were out again. Speckle watched them 
and talked to them all the time, stretching her head away out 
between the slats of the coop and calling the little ones back if 
they were running away. 

Suddenly a l^ird passed by, flying low, and Speckle looked up 
in alarm lest it might be something to hurt her chickens. Again 
the bird passed, and this time Speckle saw that it was her friend 
the barn swallow, the one who had spoken to her when she was 
sitting on her eggs. 

"Look, look! Look, look!" called Speckle in great joy, 
delighted that the swallow should see her treasures; and the 
swallow twittered as joyously in return, for she, too, had glad 
news to tell. 

"Happy, hajjpy, happy!" she chirped. " L(?ng I sat on my 
nestful of eggs; now it is a nestful of birds." 

And- away she darted to the barn, whither she had been fly- 
ing, — as full of rejoicing over the baby swallows awaiting her 
return as Speckle was over her yellow darlings. 

Emilie Poulsson". 



THE BEE, I, 



To TiiK Teacheu: — 

"Live bees in kindergarten!'" Yes; all the difficulties — and they are 
many — can be, liave been, surmounted, and bees have been kinderjjarten 
guests for a day or more. Some lived on a large branch of blossoms in 
a box covered Avith glass on one side and netting on the other, and some 
in a glass jar with netting over the top and with only a flower or two, or 
perhaps a wet lump of sugar for solace. 



THE TALK, 

When we talked of the farmer we spoke of many creatures 
who live on the farm — some with four feet (children name 
them), some with two feet. Now we will look at some tiny little 
creatures, smaller than the cows, smaller than the sheep, smaller 
than the hen, smaller than the chickens, smaller than the birds, 
smaller than th(? butterflies, although, like the birds and butter- 
flies, they can fly. Can you think of any living things so small? 
(Lead the children to name all the insects they can, and then 
produce the bees.) 

Bees are so small that we shall need to use our eyes well to 
find out much about them. Let us listen now to what each 
child tells us. (Question individual children.) 

How does the bee move? What can the bee do? What kind 
of a noise does the bee make? How many legs has it? IIow 
many wings? How many feelers? What is its body covered 
with? Very many soft, fine hairs so that it is like plush or velvet. 
What colors does the bee wear? Do you see that the bee's body 
shows three distinct parts? (head, thorax, abdomen — the fact 
not the names for the children). How many parts were there 
to the butterfly's body ? 

Now some one with very sharp eyes may tell where the wings 
and legs grow. Sharp eyes can find out many things. Where 



IN THE child's WORLD. 345 

did the butterfly's wings and legs grow? The wings and legs of 
insects always grow from the middle part of the body. 

Has the insect a backbone? No; its body is made in a differ- 
ent way. Who will be " Sharp Eyes " this time and look care- 
fully at the back part of the bee's body? AVhat did you see at 
the back part of the butterfly's body? These rings remind us of 
the caterpillar from which the butterfly grew. The bee has just 
as wonderful a story as the butterfly; for just as the butterfly 
grows from a caterpillar, so a bee grows from a little white thing 
like a caterpillar which does not look at all like a bee, and which 
has no wings, no feelers and not even any legs. It does not 
need legs, for it stays in one place, never crawling about for food 
as the caterpillar does, for some of the older bees feed all these 
white babies as long as they will eat. Then they cover them 
over with wax and leave them to change into perfect bees. 

Do you remember how wet and crumpled the butterfly was 
when it first came out of its chrysalis? And how it had to 
straighten and dry its wings before it could fly? Even this the 
bee does not do for itself, for some of the older bees stroke and 
pet and feed it until it is strong enough to fly and to work. 



TEACHER'S READING. 

The Fairy Land of Science (Chaps. IX, X), - Arabella Buckley 

The Origin of Species (Vol. I), . - . - Darwin 

Ants, Bees and Wasps, .... - Lubbock 
An Idyll of tlie Honey Bee ("Pepacton and Other 

Sketches"), ... - - John Burroughs 

Pastoral Bees ("Locusts and Wild Honey"), - John Burroughs 

Telling the Bees, ..--.- Whittier 

Paradise Lost (Book VII), ... - - Milton 

To the Humble Bee, - - - - - - . Emerson 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

A Little Dark Nursery Underground ) ("Little Folks in Feathers 
Nurseries for Baby Insects i and Fur"), 

Olive Thome Miller 
"It is the May-time," said the Bee ("Monroe's Third Reader"). 



34G IN THE child's ^V01iLD. 



STORIES. 



THE RHYME OF THE LITTLE IDLE BOY, 

{From the Frencli.) 

And have yoii heard about the boy — 

(A very little boy indeed) — 
Who did not wish to work at all, 

Or go to school or learn to read'.' 

Oh I slowly, slowly did he walk, 
And heavy seemed his little book, 

As through the daisy fields he went 
And i^ast the merry, clattering brook. 

Above his head there flew a bee. 

" O Bee,'" the boy said, " won't you stay 
And show me how you tiy so high, 

And talk with me, and laugh and playy" 

TIr'u, scarcely pausing, said the Bee: 
" Dear child, no time have I to waste. 

The North Wind long has kept me back, 
And now to work I gladly haste. 

"Ah-eady I am.laden, see! 

With houej'^ for tiie honeycomb; 
The lilac cups more nectar hold, — 
'Twixt hive and tiower I ever roam." 

Away then flew the downy bee. 
That joyous day of early spring. 

A swallow pa.ssed the little boy, 
And brushed his cheek with waving wing. 

She floated in the sunny air 
And called aloud in happy song: 
"Re.ioice! Rejoice! The spring is near!" 
So rang her message, clear and strong. 

The child looked up with brightening face: 

" O Swallow ! I remember you ! 
You are the bird who carries joy; 
O Swallow, make me happy, too. 

" Do come and play with me awhile I*' 

" Fain would J," said the swallow then, 
" For I have flown so fast and far; — 
But farther must 1 fly again, 



IX THE CHILD'S WORLD. 347 



" Fur many wait with eager heart 
To heir tlie niessajie that I brinjr; 
And I must hear it faithfully 

And herald now the dawn of spring. 

" My happy news I sing abroad. 

Then — oh, what joyous work to do! — 
My i>retty nest, my home, to build; 
Indeed, I cannot play with you." 

The s\vift-winged sw.allow tlew afar. 

The child lagged on with footsteps slow 

And — yes ! I have to own — he cried, 
lUit then he was so small, you know. 

A dog who heard the ste])S approach 
Came stalking from his kennel door; 

But ])itying the crying child, 
All growls and barkings he forebore. 

"Good doggie," said the lonely child, 
" I am so very sad to-day; 
The bees and birds all have to work — 
They will not come with me to play. 

" I do not'like to work at all, 

I do not care to learn to read; 
O doggie dear! If I were you, 
I then could always play indeed !" 

Old Stentor looked upon the child 

Whose dimpled lingers stroked his hair. 
" What, little one? Uid you not kaow 
That even dogs in work must share? 

" Not only all the livelong day 

I watch my master's home and farm. 
But while he sleeps without a fear. 
My work it is to guard from harm. 

" And more, my little one; for see 
Where yonder at the heavy plow 
The faithful horse our master serves; — 
From year to year he works as now. 

" The wool produced by yonder sheep. 
Your mother, singing, spins at home. 
When all ai-e cheerily at work 
Will you, a little idler, ro 'm? 



348 IK THE child's world. 

" The busy bee gives honey sweet, 
The swallow carries joy alway; 
By some one's work all pleasure comes; 
Will you do nothing, then, but play? 

" Oh no! Go, little one, to school; 
We dogs can never learn to read, 
But you will be a man some day ! 
To be a man is grand indeed ! '' 

The child had listened eagerly 

To wise old Stentor as he spoke ; 
The words, " You '11 be a man some day!" 

A brave and manly spirit woke. 

He clasped old Stentor' s shaggy neck 

And kissed the honest doggie's face; 
And, with the book held i^roudly now. 

Ran off to school at happy pace. 

All eagerness some work to do. 

Light-hearted o'er the road he sped; 
And reached the school. * * * When autumn came 

You cannot think how well he read ! 

Emilie Poulsson. 



EDITH AND THE BEES. 

One beautiful morning last June, a sweet little girl thought 
she would go out in the garden and pick some tiowers for one of 
her playmates, who was sick and obliged to stay shut up in the 
house this fragrant summer morning. ''Tommy shall have the 
most beautiful flowers in the garden," thought Edith, as she 
took her little basket and pruning scissors, and ran out into the 
garden. She looked like a lovely fairy or a sunbeam, flitting 
about the rosebushes. I think she was the most exquisite rose 
in all the garden herself. Her heart was full of thoughts of 
Tommy, while she worked away busily. " I wish I knew some- 
thing that would please Tommy more than anything else!" she 
said to herself. " I would love to make him happy!" and she 
Bat down on the edge of a beautiful fountain to think. 

AVhile she sat there thinking, two dear little birds began to 
take their bath in the lovely, sparkling water that rippled and 
danced in the sunshine. They would plunge into the water and 




Dices (ioixd Mai!Ki;ti.\g 



34H' 



3.j() IN THE CI1I]J)"S WOULD. 

come out dripping, perch on the side of the fountain for a 
moment, and plunge in again. Then they would shake the 
bright drops from their feathers, and fly away singing sweeter 
than ever. Edith thought the little birds enjoyed their bath as 
much as her baby brother did his. 

When they had flown away to a distant tree, Edith noticed a 
beautiful pink rosebud, more beautiful than any she had yet 
seen. "Oh, how lovely you are! " she cried; and, running to 
the bush where it was, she bent down the branch, that she 
might examine it more closely, when out of the heart of the 
rose came a small insect, and stung lier pretty cheek. The 
little girl began to weep loudly, and ran to her father, who was 
working in another j)art of the yard. " Why, my little girll" 
said he, "a bee has stung you." He drew out the sting, and 
bathed her swollen cheek in cool water, at the same time telling 
her many interesting things about the wonderful little bees. 

*' Do not cry any more, my child," said her father, " and I 
will take you to see a kind gentleman who keeps many hives 
of bees." 

"Oh, thank you I" cried Edith, brushing away the tears. 
"I will run and .get ready now." 

The beemaster, as everybody called the old man who kept 
the bees, was very glad to show his little pets, and to tell Edith 
all he knew about them. lie led her to a hive, made wholly of 
glass, so that she might watch the bees at their work. 

'-' There are three kinds of bees in every hive," said the gentle- 
man. " That large bee in the middle is the queen bee. She is 
the most important bee in the hive. She has a sting, but seldom 
makes use of it. Those busy little bees are the worker bees. It 
was probably a worker that stung you this morning, my little 
girl," said the beemaster. 

Edith thought she did not like the worker bee as well as the 
others; but when she heard what industrious little workers they 
are, and how they take all the care of the young bees, build the 
cells of wax, and bring in the honey, she felt much more affec- 
tion for them. 

'' What do the bees do in winter, when there are no flowers 
from which to gather honey?"' in(|uired Edith. 



IN THE CHILl/s WOULD. 351 

"They sleep during the long, cold winter days, and awaken 
when tlie warm spring returns," replied her kind instructor. 

"Now," said Edith's father, "we had better go, or you will 
not get to see Tommy to-day." 

Then the little girl thanked her new friend for telling her so 
much about his interesting pets, and promised to come and see 
him as often as she could. 

"0 father!"'" cried Edith, as they walked homeward, "lam 
almost glad that the naughty little bee stung me this morning, 
for now I shall have something amusing to tell Tommy." 

Helen Keller. 



NoTK. Tliit- story was more complete in its details of bee life, but a few parajrraplis 
have bi^en omitted as being unnecessary repetition of what has already been gi\en in 
the talk. k. p. 



THE BEE, 11. 



To The Teacher:— 

Many objects besides the bee itself will be useful for illustratins this 
talk,— flowers which show the pollen, a lump of wax, a wax candle, a 
wax doll, and, best of all, a little feast of honey— honey in the com)), by 
all means. 



THE TALK. 



ee^ 



Where do bees live? In beehives. Yes, 
and there are wild bees which live in the 
woods, in hollow trees; but when farmers 
and other people keep bees they provide 
beehives — large wooden boxes — for tlieni 
to live in. (Show picture of beehive, or 
have a drawing on the 
blackboard.) A great 
many bees live together 
in one hive ; as many 
bees, in fact, as there 
are people in a whole 
city,— from 20,000 to 60,000. One bee in each hive is different 
from the others and is called the queen bee. She lays all the 
eggs, and you should see how carefully the other bees watch and 
tend her! The queen cannot even feed herself, but would starve 
to death with honey right beside her if there were no bees to feed_ 
her! Some of the bees are called drones, and others Avorkers. 
Wheh the queen flies out of the hive the drones go with her, and 
when she is at home the working bees attend to her. 

What kind of work do you think such little things as bees can 
do? Yes, they can gather honey, but they can do many other 
things. They take care of the queen and the thousands of 





IN THE child's WOULD. 353 

babies, and they make bee-bread to feed to them; they make 
thousands of wax cells in which they store their honey; they keep 
the hive clean, and, if it gets too warm inside, some of them 
stand at the doorway and fan fresh air into the hive with their 
wings! They drive away strange bees or wasps or snails or any 
other creatures which try to get into their hive. Do you wonder 
how they can tell which are the strange bees that do not belong 
to their hive? Some of the wise men think it is by touching 
each other's feelers. Whenever two bees meet they always touch 
each other's feelers. Perhaps that is the same for them that 
talking is for ns. 

Do you know what they have to protect themselves with when 
troubled? A sharp little thing called a sting. It hurts very 
much to be stung, but a bee will not sting any one who does not 
trouble or frighten it in some way. 

Did you ever taste honey? Bees are such hard workers that 
they make a great deal of honey, and so we often have some. 
When we take honey from the hive, enough must be left for the 
bees through the winter, or else we must give them syrup to live 
upon until the spring flowers come. After the bee has eaten all 
the honey it wishes from the flowers, it gathers more to take 
home to the hive. The honey for the hive is carried in a little bag 
which is inside the bee's body, and which the bee can empty into 
one of the wax cells. It takes a great many journeys from hive to 
flower and from flower to hive before a bee can fill even one cell. 

How does the bee get honey (or rather the nectar which it 
makes into honey) from the flowers? With its long tongue, 
which is something like the butterfly's tongue. Bees get some- 
thing else from the flowers besides honey — the yellow powder 
called pollen. You have seen it on pussy willows and lilies. In 
the spring bees are very anxious to get the fresh pollen. Going 
into a flower for honey, the bee gets covered Avith the yellow 
powder, but soon brushes it off with its feet and packs it away 
in little baskets to carry it home. You would not have thought 
that the bee always carried two baskets, would you? But there 
they are on its hind legs, and you can see them very plainly when 
they are full of the yellow pollen. Sometimes the bees fill their 
baskets so full that they can scarcely fly with their heavy load. 



354 IN THE child's world. 



In the hive the pollen is mixed with honey, forming what is 
called "bee-bread," and fed to the baby bees. 

You remember that the bee had a tiny bag in which to carry 
honey, as well as two baskets for carrying i)ollen. Besides the 
bags for honey and baskets for pollen, the bee has eight pockets 
on the under side of its body, out of which it gets the wax for 
building its cells. Just thinki A bag for honey, baskets for 
pollen, and pockets for Avax. 

The cells which the bee builds are pure white and of very 
pretty shape — six-sided. The bees never make a mistake. They 
do not make some cells square and some round and some with 
five sides; but always have their cells six-sided. All the cells 
which are built together make a honeycomb. What tools do 
the bees have? Only their jaws (mandibles) and feet. For what 
are the cells used? For storing honey and for the babies to live 
in. "When a cell is full of honey the bee covers it over with 
Avax. When we have honey to eat, it is sometimes in the comb 
and sometimes strained; that is, all the wax is taken out of it. 

Do we use wax for anything-? Ask your mamma if she has a 
]>ieee in her workbasket, and Avhat she does Avith it. Do you 
not remember that the cobbler uses it, too? Candles are made of 
wax sometimes — little ones for Christmas trees and big candles, 
too. And have any of these little girls Avax dolls? Their 
pretty Avax heads Avere also made of the bees' wax. 

Try to remember the busy little bees the next time you play 
with your Avax dolls, and Avhenever you eat honey. 











Homes foii the Bees. 



3.j5 



^56- IN THE child's world. 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Half-hours with Insects, . . . - - Packard 

Nouvelles Observations sur les Abeilles, . - - Huher 

Treatise on the Honey Bee, ----- Langstroth 

Khoecus, ----..- Lowell 
The Bee, ..--.. Emily Dickinson 

The Bee, .....-- Vaughn 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

Buz, - - - - - - - Maurice Noel 

The Bees' Pockets ("Kindergarten Stories and Morning 

Talks"), ------- S.E.Wiltse 



STORIES. 

A NARROW ESCAPE. 

The time came when Buz and Hum, two young bees, were 
allowed to try their wings. 

" Follow me," said a friendly older bee; *'I can spare time to 
fly a little way; and when I stop, you stop, too." 

"All right," cried Buz, trembling with excitement. 

Hum said nothing, but her wings began to move, almost in 
spite of herself. 

Away went the bee, as straight as a line from the mouth of the 
hive, and away flew Buz and Hum after her; but at first starting 
they both found it a little difficult to keep quite straight, and 
Buz knocked against the board to begin with, and nearly stopped 
herself, as she had not learned how to rise. 

The older bee did not go far, and lit on the branch of a peach 
tree which was growing against a wall hard by. Buz came after 
her in a great hurry, but missed the branch and gave herself a 
bang against the wall. Hum saw this, and managed to stop her- 
self in time; but she did not Judge her distance very well either, 
;;nd got on the peach tree in a scrambling sort of way. 

•• Very good," said their friend, as they all three stood together; 



IN THE child's WORLD. 357 

^'you will soon be able to take care of yourselves now; but just 
let me see you back to the hive." 

So off they flew again, and alighted on the board in a very 
creditable manner. 

"'Now," said the bee, "I shall leave you; but before I go let 
me advise you, as a friend, not to quit the garden to-day; there 
are plenty of flowers, and plenty of opportunities for you to meet 
with ' Experience,' without flying over any of the four walls." 

" Who is Experience? " asked Buz and Hum together. 

" OhI somebody to whom you are going to be introduced, who 
will teach you more in a day than you could learn from me in a 
week. Good-bye." So saying, she disappeared into the hive. 

" Is n't it too delightful? '' exclaimed Buz to Hum. '• Flying! 
why it's even more fun than I thought!" 

" It is," said Hum; " but I should like to get some honey at 
once." 

" Of course," replied Buz, " only I should like to fly a good 
way to get it." 

" I want to fill a cell quickly," said Hum. 

*' Oh yes, to be sure! What a delightful thing it will be to put 
one's proboscis down into every flower and see what's there! Do 
you knoAV," added Buz, putting oat her proboscis, "I feel as if 
I could suck honey tremendously; don't you?" 

*'Yes, yes," cried Hum, "I loiig to be at it; let's be off at 
once." 

So away they went and lit on a bed of flowers. 

Hum spent the day between the hive and that bed, and was 
quite, quite happy; but Buz, though she, too, liked collecting the 
honey, wanted to have more excitement in getting it; and every 
now and then, as she passed to and from the hive, a lovely field 
of clover, not far off, sent forth such a delicious smell, as the 
breeze swept over it, that she was strongly tempted to disregard 
the advice she had been given, and to hurry off to it. 

At last she could stand it no longer; and, rising high into the 
air, she sailed over the wall and went out into the world beyond. 

And so she reached the field of clover, and, flying quite low 
over the flowers, was astonished to see how many bees were busy 
among them — bumblebees without end, and plenty of honey- 



358 IN THE child's would. 



bees, too; in fact, the air was filled with the pleasant murmur that 
they made. 

"To be sure," said Buz to herself, '•' this is the place for mel 
Poor, dear old Hum! I hope she is enjoying herself as much as 
1 am. I don't mean to be idle either, so here goes for some 
honey." 

Buz was very diligent indeed and soon collected as much honey 
as she could carry. But by the time she had done this she found 
herself close to the farther end of the clover field, and Avhile 
resting for a moment, before starting to carry her load to the 
hive, she noticed a little pond in the corner. Feeling thirsty 
after her hard work, she flew off to take a few sips; but just 
as she reached the pond and was in the act of descending, a 
light gust of wind caught her and turned her half over, and 
before she could recover herself she was plunged far out into 
the water! 

Poor Buz! She was a brave little bee, but this was a terrible 
accident; and after a few wild struggles she almost gave herself 
up. The water was so cold, and she felt herself so helpless in it; 
and then the accident had happened so suddenly, and taken her 
so utterly by surprise, that it is no wonder she lost courage. Only 
for a moment though; just as she was giving up in despair the 
hard and seemingly useless work of paddling and struggling with 
all her poor little legs at once, she saw that a bit of stick was 
floating near her, and with renewed energy she attempted to get 
to it. Alas! it was all she could do to keep her head above water; 
as for moving along through it, that seemed impossible, and she 
was tempted to give up once more. It was very hard though; 
there was the stick, not more than a foot away from her; if she 
could only reach it! At any rate, she was determined it should 
not -be her fault if she was unsuccessful; so she battled away 
harder than ever, though her strength began to fail and she was 
becoming numbed with the cold. Just as she made this last effort 
another gust of wind swept over the pond, and Buz saw that the 
stick began to move through the water, and to come nearer and 
nearer to her. The fact Avas that a small twig sticking up from 
it acted as a sail, though Buz did not know this. And now the 
stick was quite close, almost within reach; in another moment 



IX THE child's world. 359 

she would be on it. Ah! but a moment seems a long time when 
one is at the last gasp, as poor Buz was. 

Would she be drowned after all? Nol Just as she was sink- 
ing she touched the stick with one little claw, and held on as only 
drowning people can; and then she got another claw safely lodged, 
and was able to rest for a juoment. Oh I the relief of tliat, after 
such a long and ceaseless struggle! 

But even then it was very hard to get up on the stick, very 
hard indeed. However, Buz managed it at last, and dragged 
herself quite out of the cold water. 

By this time the breeze was blowing steadily over the pond, 
and the stick would soon reach the bank; but Buz felt very miser- 
able and cold, and her Avings clung tightly to her, and she looked 
dreadfully forlorn. 

The pond, too, was overshadowed by trees; so there were no 
sunbeams to warm her. *'Ah!'' thought she, "if lean manage 
to drag myself up into the sunshine and rest and be well warmed, 
I shall soon be better." 

Well I the bank was safely reached at last; but Buz, all through 
her life, never forgot what a business it was climbing up the side. 
The long grasses yielded to her weight, and bent almost straight 
down, as if on purpose to make it as up-hill work for her as pos- 
sible. And even when she reached the top it took her a weary 
while to get across the patch of dark shadow and out into the 
glad sunlight beyond; but she managed to arrive there at last, 
and crawling on the top of a stone which had been well warmed 
by the sun's rays, she rested for a long time. 

At last she recovered sufficiently to nuike her way, by a succes- 
sion of short flights, back to the hive. After the first of tliese 
flights she felt so dreadfully weak that she almost doubted being 
able to accomplish the journey, and began to despond. 

"If I ever do get home," she said to herself, "I will tell Hum 
all about it, and how right she was to take advice." 

Xow whether it was the exercise that did her good, or that 
the sun's rays became hotter that afternoon, cannot be known, 
but this is certain, that Buz felt better after every flight. When 
she reached the end of the clover field, she sipped a little honey, 
cleaned herself with her feet, stretched her wings, and, with the 



)G0 IX THE child's world. 



sun glistening brightly on her, looked quite fine again. Her last 
flight brought her to the top of the kitchen-garden wall After 
resting here, she opened her wings and flew gaily, to the hive, 
which she entered just as if nothing had happened. 

Maurice Noel. 

Slightly altered from '' Buz,'^ Henry Holt <fe Co., Neio York. 



SOLOMON AND THE BEES. 
When Solomon was reigning in bis glory, 

Unto his throne the Queen of Sheba came — 
(So in the Talmud you may read the story) — 

Drawn by the magic of the monarch's fame, 
To see the splendors of his court, and bring 
Some fitting tribute to the mighty King. 

Nor this alone: much had her Highness heard 
What flowers of learning graced the royal speech; 

What gems of wisdom dropped with every word; 
What wholesome lessons he was wont to teach 

In pleasing proverbs; and she wished, in sooth, 

To know if Rumor spoke the simple truth. 

Besides, the Queen had heard (which piqued her most) 
How through the deepest riddles he could spy; 

How all the curious arts that women boast 
Were quite transparent to his piercing eye; 

And so the Queen had come — a royal guest — 

To put the sage's cunning to the test. 

And straight she held before the monarch's view, 
In either hand, a radiant wreath of flowers; 

The one, bedecked with every charming hue, 
Was newly culled from Nature's choicest bowers; 

The other, no less fair in every part, 

Was the rare product of divinest Art. 

*' Which is the true, and which the false?" she said. 
Great Solomon was silent. All amazed, 
Each wondering courtier shook his puzzled head; 
While at the garlands long the monarch gazed, 
As one who sees a miracle, and fain. 
For very rapture, ne'er would speak again. 

*' Which is the true?" once more the woman asked, 
Pleased at the fond amazement of the King; 



IN THE CHlLU'ti WORLD. 361 

''So wise a head should not be hardly tasked, 

Most learned Liege, with such a trivial thing!" 
But still the sage was silent; it was plain 
A deepening doubt perplexed the royal brain. 

While thus he pondered, presently he sees, 

Hard by the casement — so the story goes — 
A little band of busy, bustling bees, 

Hunting for honey in a withered rose. 
The monarch smiled, and raised his royal head; 
" Open the window!" — that was all he said. 

The window opened at the King's command; 

Within the rooms the eager insects flew. 
And sought the flowers in Sheba's dexter hand! 

And so the king and all the courtiers knew 
That wreath was Nature's; and the baffled Queen 
Returned to tell the wonders she had seen. 

My story teaches (every tale should bear 

A fitting moral) that the wise may find 
In trifles light as atoms of the air 

Some useful lesson to enrich the mind — 
Some truth designed to profit or to please — 
As Israel's King learned wisdom from the bees. 

John G. Saxb. 

Houghton, Mifflin <&, Co. 



MRS. FLYAWAY. 

(A Story of Ants.) 



Once upon a time there lived in a big, brown house a very- 
dainty little lady. They called her Mrs. Flyaway because she 
never wanted to stay at home. 

This little person looked as if she had been polished, for she 
was very black and very shiny. She had two tiny, gauzy wings 
fcnd six legs, so that she could walk quite fast for her size. She 
was very small, indeed — not half an inch long. 

In fact, she was an ant and lived in an ant-hill. 

A great many other ants lived in this same house — almost as 
many ants as there are leaves on a tree — so many that you could 
not count them. 

The brown house stood in the middle of a beautiful green field 



3G2 INT THE child's WOULD. 



and above it was an elm tree tlirough which the wind sang all 
day and all night, so you see it was a very pleasant place to 
live in. 

Perhaps the brown house would if t have seemed big to a boy or 
girl, but it was grand indeed for the little ants, and they were 
very proud of it, because they had built it all themselves. It 
doesn't seem possible that little ants could build a house, does 
it? But I will tell you how they did it. 

Of course they had to begin with something very small, so 
they chose a blade of grass. Think of beginning to build a house 
with a blade of grass! 

This blade of grass was standing very straight and stiff under 
the elm tree, and one little ant who was a mason said, '"I will- 
make some mortar, and then with it I will cover the blade of 
grass to make a stout pillar. This will be the beginning of our 
house." lie found some soft earth and sticky clay with which 
he mixed a little water and tiniest bits of grass and wood, 
lie kneaded this with his feet until it was a thick plaster, which 
he stuck on the blade of grass. Of course it took him a long 
time to cover the whole grass blade, but he worked hard and was 
very patient. 

When the other ant masons saw what he was doing, they all 
went to work with a will and did just the same to other blades 
of grass. 

The big Sun looked down and smiled on them when he saw 
how hard they worked. " 1 will help them," he said ; and 
smiling more brightly than ever he baked their pillars hard 
and dry. 

When the pillars were done the ants built arches across 
them, back and front, right and left, over and over, until a 
roof was stretched across. The good-natured 8un smiled down 
once more and then the roof also became hard and dry and 
strong. 

Day after day the busy ants worked. 'J'hey made more pillars 
above the first ones, and threw more andies over them until they 
had built a house big enough for all to live in. It had long, 
winding passages everywhere under the arches, and tiny little 
rooms opening into the passages. Over all this they put a cover- 



IX THE child's wokld. 3G3 



ing of etirth, with oh I so many doors and windows in it; and 
then the house was done. 

One morning little Mrs. Flyaway went hastily out of one of 
the doors. Naughty Mrs. Flyaway ! She was going to run 
away. She wanted to see that beautiful green world that lay 
all about. 

She had not gone very far when three or four other ants went 
tumbling out of the doors and windows and ran as fast as they 
could after her. 

These little ants were not quite as pretty as Mrs. Flyaway; 
they had no lovely gauzy wings. They were very patient and 
industrious, however, and worked hard all day for the Flyaways 
(there were other Flyaways besides the one we know); and work- 
ing hard for other people is much better than being only beauti- 
ful to look at, is n't it ? 

You see three kinds of ants lived in this one house. There 
were the Mr. Flyaways, who had four wings and were very grand, 
the Mrs. Flyaways who had two wings, and the dear little workers 
who had n't any wings at all. 

When the worker ants caught up to our Mrs, Flyaway, one of 
them said, breathing very hard through the breatliing pores in 
his sides, " my dear friend, what a run so early in the morn- 
ing! You must come right back home. Why, what would we 
poor workers do, if we let the Flyaways leave us?" 

*' Yes," said another, "pretty soon you will have some little 
baby ants, and we have made room for them in the big, brown 
house. If you don't stay there you will have no home for them." 
So, coaxing and teazing, they got Mrs. Flyaway back to the house. 

But their trouble was not over then, for either this Mrs. Fly- 
away or some other was always trying to run away. The work- 
ers were more than busy keeping them at home and finding 
enough food for them. 

One beautiful day, in spite of all their care, Mrs. Flyaway 
was lost. They had just given up searching for her, when who 
should come running toward home but that dear little lady 
herself. 

" Come,'' she cried in great excitement. " Gomel See what 
I have." 



304 IN THE guild's WOlil.l). 

They nil ran after her as fast as possible, and what do you 
think she showed them, carefully hidden under a leaf? Twenty 
little eggs! 

" Seel" said Mrs. Flyaway joyously, " My little baby ants will 
come out of these eggs." 

Mrs, Flyaway might have been called Mrs, Stay-at-home after 
this, for, would yon believe it? she never wanted to run away 
any morel She just felt like staying at home and watching those 
eggs day and night. So she took off her })retty little wings and 
laid them aside, knowing that she would n't need them any more, 

" Yours will be the first babies this year," said somebody. 

" They won't be babies at all if we aren't careful." said one 
experienced old ant. 

The little mother looked very anxious. 

''We must get them in out of the dew;" the same ant added, 
"those tender little eggs can not stand the cool, damp night 
air." At this the ants went to work, and before the sun went 
down the eggs were all in the brown house. 

Everybody was up early next morning to take the eggs out 
again and spread them in the sunshine. At noontime the eggs 
had to be changed again and put under a plantain leaf because 
the sun grew too warm. You may imagine that all this kept 
them very busy, morning, noon and night. 

One morning when Mrs. Flyaway woke up. she felt something 
moving. She looked down, expecting to see a little ant. But 
what do you think had come out of the eggs instead? Twenty 
little grubs — little fat things with no legs and no wings. Mrs. 
Flyaway was very much surprised at first and a little disap- 
pointed, but she soon grew to think they were the most beauti- 
ful babies a mother ever possessed. 

Oh! how much they did eat. Why, it took twenty workers 
besides their proud little mother to find enough honey-dew for 
them to eat, and to protect them from heat and cold. 

The grubs were not to be grubs always. Before many days 
passed they spun themselves silky cocoons, rolled themselves up 
tight and went to sleep, looking like twenty little barleycorns. 
They slept so many days that their mother became quite 
anxious. " Is n"t it time to wake them?"* she said. 



IN THE child's WORLD. 365- 



"Just about time," saidalittle worker. "You know we will 
have to cut open the cocoons. The babies will not be able to 
get out unless we do." Now the ants who attended to this did 
not have any scissors or knives, but they had something which 
answered just as well. Teeth? No, but mandibles— parts of 
their mouths which they use for all such work. With these 
mandibles the ants cut a hole in each cocoon. 

You would never guess what came out of those cocoons! 
(irubs do you think? No, indeed. Twenty little full-fledged 
ants — some Flyaways and some workers — came out, rubbing 
their eyes and yawning. 

" Well," exclaimed their mother in the wildest excitement, 
"those babies have caused me continual surprise ever since I 
first saw the eggs, but this is the greatest surprise of all.'' 

Ada Cook. 



FLOWERS. 



To THE Teacheb: — 



Flowers are always welcome and ap- 
propriate in kindergarten, and those 
children are fortunate whose teacher 
brings to them these pretty chronicles of 
each season as it passes. It is not neces- 
sary to have a great bouquet; even one 
flower will give the childi"en pleasure. 

For this talk a plant with buds and 
blossoms would be best. Pansies, nas- 
turtiums and other flowers which show 
the "honey streaks" will be necessary. 
Let the children taste the nectar at the 
bottom of the flowers— lilac, clover, etc. 

If flowers are easily available, ask the children to bring some to talk 

about during the week. 




THE TALK. 



(Recalling tlie interesting little workers talked of last week, 
the children's thoughts can he naturally directed to flowers. 
Let the children name all the kinds of flowers familiar to them, 
and tell of what colors and of what shapes they are and which 
of them are fragrant.) 

What kind of flowers did you see in the winter? Where did 
they grow? In doors. AVhy? What kinds did you see in the 
early spring? What kinds have we in kindergarten to-day? 
Where did they grow? What helped them to grow? (Sunshine 
and rain and the earth in which they Avere planted.) Would 
this flower grow (holding up a cut flower) if I should plant it? 
Why not? What do the roots do for the plant ? Is it pure water 
which they drink? Xo, it has soaked through the ground and 
taken Avhat the plants need from the soil. 

When this juice soaks up from the roots it goes into another 
part of the plant. What part is that? The stem. And from the 



IN THE CHILD S WORLD. 



367 



stem where does it go? Into the little stems, into the leaves and 
into the flowers. Do you remember what we call this juice of 
the plant ? It is called sap. We spoke of it when we were talking 
about trees; and we had maple sugar in kindergarten because 
maple sugar is made of sap. When we have cut flowers and put 
them in water, the water takes the place of sap for a little while. 
Let us look at one of the kindergarten plants and tell all its 
parts. The roots under the ground, then the stems, then the 
leaves and flowers. Little plants have all these parts, just as 








^ud') and j^lovyer'^. \*V^ 



big trees have. Is n't it wondei'fnl tliut all this couki come from 
one tinv seed? (The children will be ready to tell of the kin- 
dergarten seed i)lanting and its results.) 

Do you remember what we found on the trees early in spring, 
before we could see any leaves? Leaf- buds. And what do we 
find on the plant before we can have any flowers? Flower-buds, 
of course. (Show bud.) 

At first the bud is very small indeed, having within it only the 
beginning of a flower; but it grows and grows, and by and by the 
bud opens and the flower unfolds itself. Just before the bud 
opened, the pretty flower was packed and folded in the bud 
about as closely as the butterfly Avith his big wings was packed 
in the chrysalis. Flowers are so beautiful and so sweet that every- 
body loves them, Fven if they were good for nothing but to be 
beautiful and sweet we should l)e glad to have flowers grow; but 
they are useful besides. 

Certain little creatures with baskets on their It'S^s and a bacr 



368 IN' THE child's would. 



inside the body would not know where to go to market if it were 
not for the flowers. What do bees get from flowers to put into 
their baskets? Pollen for bee-bread. What do they carry home 
in their bags? Can you think of any other insect which sips 
honey from flowers? How do the bee and the butterfly get the 
honey from the deep flower-cups? Many other insects like 
honey, too. 

(Show some flowers having streaks or veins on tlie ])etals, and 
call attention to these lines.) 

Who would think these lines were of any use? It seems as if 
they were only to make the flower prettier; but they really are of 
use to the bees. When a bee lights on a flower, it sees these 
streaks and knows that they point to the place where the flower 
keeps its honey. Isn't that interesting? It is a sign which says 
to the bee : ' ' This way for honey ! " 

But the most wonderful use of the flower is still to be told. 
What do we plant in order to have flowers? Seeds. But where 
do seeds come from? (Some of the children may remember that 
certain fruits contain seeds; if so, trace back to the blossom.) 

Ah I it is the flowers which do the great work of seed making. 
The flowers which are not plucked but which remain on the 
plants seem to fade away; but it is not the whole flower, it is only 
the pretty petals which fade and drop off. The other parts (point 
out the pistil and stamens to the children,) stay on the plant and 
finally make the seeds. What kind of seeds would this flower 
have made if it had stayed on the plant? And if we planted 
those seeds Avhat would grow? Each flower makes its own kind 
of seeds; and no other kind of seed can grow into Just that par- 
ticular kind of flower. Now would you like to know what the 
flowers say? A lady (Susan Coolidge) tells us in some pretty 



verses :- 



The red rose says: " Be sweet,'" 

And the lily bids: " Be pure." 
Tlie hardy, brave chrysanthemum, 

" Be patient and endure." 
The violet whispers: " Give, 

Nor grudge nor count the cost." 
The woodbine, '' Keep on blossomin;; 

In spite of chill and frost."' 




.,^>r,|s' 



Which do You Likk Bkst? 



iitV) 



370 IN THE child's wokld. 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Botany, . . . . Gray, Hooker, Newell, Youmans 

How to Know the Wild Flowers, - - - - Mrs. W. S. Dana 

Flowers and their Pedigree, - - - . . Allen 

Flower Object Lessons, - - - - - - Le Maout 

Life of a Primrose (" Fairy Land of Science," ) - - Arabella Buckley 

Wild Flowers and Where they Grow, - - Amanda B. Harris 

Song of Life, . . . . _ Margaret Morley 

The Sensitive Plant, . . . . _ Shelley 

Little Flower People, - - . . . Hale 

Hymn to the Flowers, ----- Horace Smith 

Flowers, ------- Hood 

The Question, --...- Shelley 

To the Rhodora, -.-... Emerson 

Chorus of Flowers, ------ Leigh Hunt 

Nature and the Poets, ----- Keats 

To a Mountain Daisy, . - . - . Burns 

Flower in the Crannied Wall, - - - - Tennyson 

A Lay of the Early Rose, ) n* n • 

The Deserted Garden, S - - - - Mrs. Browning 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

St. Elizabetli and the Roses ) (" Kindergarten Stories and „ „ m-//aa 
BabyCalla S Morning Talks"), !i. J^. wiuse 



IN THE CHILD S WORLD. 



371 



STORIES. 



WHAT THEY DID. 




•*' mammal" cried Carrie Edwards as she 
entered the dining room, where a basket of 
clioiee tiowers stood upon the center table, 
'• where did they come from?" " They are 
yours, my dear," her mother answered. 
"Your father called at Mr. Brown's green- 
house this morning, and he sent them to you. 
He said that last winter, when his little boy was hurt at school, 
you cared for him till help came from home. It seems he never 
forgot the act; and so he has sent you this bouquet, with his 
kindest regards." 

Carrie's face flushed with pleasure. 

''I had almost forgotten about it," she said. " Little Willie 
Brown fell from his sled while coasting, and his arm was broken. 
I only picked him up and held him till others came. But these 
flowers are such beauties I It seems a pity that all their sweet- 
ness'should be wasted on me. There, mamma, I have it I I met 
the minister on the street a moment ago, and he looked so sad. 
Frank is still very sick, they say, and takes scarcely any notice 
of what is going on about him. He is so fond of flowers, you 
remember, mamma. Last summer, when he called with his 
father, my pink rosebush was in full bloom, and I gave him 
one. He was delighted with it; and I saw him, when he thought 
no one was looking, caress it lovingly. May I share my flowers 
with him?" 

" Y^'es, dear, if you like. They are yours to dispose of as you 
please." 

A little later the minister's wife said, coming into her boy's 
room, " Frankie, darling, see what Carrie Edwards has sent you." 
The lad opened his eyes, and a smile of joy lighted his face. 
"For me?" he whispered. 

" Yes, dear,'' Mrs. A'oorhees answered; " the man who brought 
them said Miss Carrie sent them." 



372 IN THE child's world. 



The boy held them to his lips, and inhaled their sweetness witb 

a pleasure his mother rejoiced to see. 

" Don't take them away," he whispered. 

" You shall have them right here, dear." 

Then he closed his eyes, and, with his face buried in the 
flowers, lay for a long time so quietly that his mother thought 
he had fallen asleep. 

''Mammal" he suddenly whispered. 

"Yes, Frank." 

" I have been thinking of Tommy Brown around the corner. 
You know he has to sit all day long in that little smoky room 
while his mother washes ; for he cannot walk a step. May I share 
my flowers with him?" 

" If you wish." 

Tommy Brown sat by the window, in his mother's bare little 
room, gazing at the noisy scene across the street. His mother 
had been busy washing all day, and was tired and cross. Tommy 
could scarcely see through the window panes, so thickly were they 
covered with smoke and dust. The scene outside could not be 
called an interesting one, but there was so little to divert 
Tommy's mind that he strove his best to keep watch of what 
went on in the street. But it was hard work to peer through the 
steamy, grimy window. He sighed, then took his little hand 
and tried to clean the dirt from the pane. What he saw made 
him forget the smoke and the boys across the street; for he 
got a glimpse of a man bearing in his hand a bouquet of flowers. 

"Oh!" he gasped, "how glad I am I saw them. I wonder 
how they happened to come down this street?" 

A knock sounded at the door. 

"For Tommy, from Master Frank," said a voice. 

"Not the minister's boy?" cried Mrs. Brown. 

" The same, ma'am. He had a gift to-day, and he was always 
one to share a blessing with others." 

" mother !" was all Tommy said. Then he sat very quietly 
for an hour or more, very carefully fingering each tiny blossom, 
with his eyes full of untold happiness. After all, it was such a 
good world to live in, when he was remembered by a sick boy, 
and such a boy as Frank Voorhees. 



IX THE CHILD S WOULD. 



A moment later he cried: "'AVhat was that? €%! yes, I 
know; it is little Bessie, upstairs. She has been alone all day 
while her mother is out working, and she is growing tired, I 
reckon. Why conld n't I spare her half of my flowers? I ought, 
if Frank Voorhees could spare them for me. Mother/' Tommy 
said, "would you mind going upstairs to little Bessie's room 
with part of these flowers?" 

Tommy's mother would usually have minded such a trip as 
this very much, but the gift of flowers had softened her heart. 
A few moments later Mrs. Brown stood by little Bessie's cot, 
where the child was wasting her strength in tears. 

" Here's some flowers Tommy sent to you, and the minister's 
sick boy. Master Frank, sent them to him." 

The child gave a cry of Joy and gathered the flowers to her 
bosom. '"' I never saw such beautiful flowers before," she said. 

Only a few flowers! But what little missionaries of love they 
proved I Selected. 



THE PLANT HOUSEHOLD. 

A certain household well I know, 

The prettiest ever seen. 
And at its head in fairest robes 

There sits a dainty queen; 
While all the upper servants dress 

In livery of green. 

The cooks and those who with them work 
Are clad in dingy brown. 
" No fancy dress for us ! " they say, 
" A sober colored gown 
Is better far for work like ours 
Than all the green in town. 

" For we must toil beneath the ground, 
And hard we work indeed, 
That Lady Flower and all the rest 

May have the food they need. 
To choosing and preparing it 
We must pay strictest heed." 

" And we, " the upper servants say, 
" Must carry it with care 



3T4 IX THE child's world. 



Ami see that eveiy member has 

A full and proper share. 
Thus day by day we gladly work 

To serve our Lady fair." 

And Lady Flower sits up aloft 

In robes of rainbow hue, 
All perfumed sweet and gold-bedecked 

And gemmed with diamond dew. 
Was never royal lady yet 

More wondrous fair to view. 

And yet like all her servitors 

This little lady gay 
Leads not a life of idleness, 

But works from day to day; 
And in her task of making seeds 

She gives her life away. 



Emilie rOLLSSOX. 



CLYTIE. 

Clytie was a beautiful nymph who lived among the woods and 
streams. Her golden hair was the color of the cowslips in the 
brook, and her robe was of pale green — a color she loved because 
it belonged to the young leaves, and to the grass in spring. 
Sometimes as she sat in the meadow beside her favorite stream, 
where the field flowers grew so tall as to half hide her, she seemed 
almost like a flower herself. She loved, as she sat there, to feel 
the wind blow her hair about, and to keep her face turned up to 
the sun, as a flower turns in the direction whence comes all its 
light and warmth. The hot noon never drove her indoors for 
shelter; side by side with the violets and lilies she rejoiced in 
the sun's caressing Avarmth, and grew stronger and more beauti- 
ful day by day. 

Early in the morning, fresh as the dawn itself, she would 
come through the dewy grass to a hilltop, whence she could see 
the first pink flush come into the sky; then waiting till the 
shining edge of the sun appeared over the hills, she would greet 
him as he flooded all the world with light. 

All day, as she roamed the woods or dipped her white feet in 



IN THE child's avorlu. 375 



the waters of the streams, she could see liini mounting liigher 
and higher in the sky, or going down towards the we^iL-rn 
horizon. If clouds came across his face, she drooped and looked 
unhappy, but if a sudden shower came down upon her she 
laughed with glee, because she knew then that the sun would 
soon show iiimself again. As the afternoon shadows lengthened 
she would gather up her flowers — the narcissus or the great 
yellow lilies she had found — slowly mount the hill from which 
she could look towards the west, and settling herself into a com- 
fortable nook in the rocks, would watch the great sun go slowly 
down out of sight, leaving a golden train of brightness behind 
him. Tlien, as the flowers closed their petals and sank to sleep, 
she brushed softly through the leaves, and soon was sleeping as 
peacefully herself, in her cool and quiet bower. 

So the days of this sun-loving maiden were passed. She seemed 
a creature made to live in the light of the sun, and to grow under 
its beams, as do the flowers. Apollo, the great sun god, who looks 
down upon mortals, had seldom seen anything so beautiful, as 
he moved over the wide flelds, and because she was so flower-like, 
and because she so loved the sunbeams and showers, he deter- 
mined that she should never die like other mortals, but that she 
should become a flower, golden-colored like her hair, and like 
the sun she so loved to look upon. The leaves are pale green, 
and the flower, standing high upon its stalk, turns its face to the 
sun. It is said that as the sun moves slowly across the sky, the 
flower turns its face from east to west, and for this reason it is 
called the sunflower.* F. II. 



THE INDIAN LEGEND OF THE TRAILING ARBUTUS. 

On the south shore of Lake Superior, in the vicinity of the 
Pictured Rock, grows to perfection that dearest and sweetest of 
all wild flowers, the arbutus, the plant that the most skillful 
florist, the plant that the tender, loving touch of woman, even, 
cannot cause to grow in hothouse or garden. 



Heliotrope means sunflower, Init no one kimw- Jnst what the Greek flower was. 



37ti IN THE child's world. 

From time to time, wiiile sitting by the camp fires in the 
evening, I have been told of the creation of many animals and 
birds by the great Mannaboosho and his captains the Manir-oe. 
And this is the legend as told me, of the origin or creation of the 
arbutus: — 

It was many, many moons ago there lived an old man alone in 
Lis lodge, beside a frozen stream in the forest; his locks and beard 
Avere long and white with age. He was heavily clad in fine furs, 
for all the world was winter, — snow and ice everywhere; the 
winds went wild through the forests, searching every bush and 
tree for birds to chill, chasing evil spirits o'er hill and vale, and 
the old man went about searching in deep snow for pieces of 
wood to keep up the fire in his lodge. In despair he returned to 
his lodge, and sitting down by the last few dying coals, he cried 
to Mannaboosho that he might not perish. And the winds blew 
aside the door of the lodge and there came in a most beautiful 
maiden. Her cheeks were red and made of wild roses; her eyes 
were large and glowed like the eyes of fawns at night; her hair 
was long and black as the raven's, and it touched the ground as 
she walked; her hands were covered with willow buds; her bonnet 
was a wreath of wild flowers, and her clothing of sweet grasses 
and ferns, and her moccasins were white lilies, and when she 
breathed the air of the lodge it became warm. 

The old man said: — 

''My daughter, I am glad to see you; my lodge is cold and 
cheerless, but it will shield you from the tempest of the night; 
do tell me who you are, that you dare to come to my lodge in 
such strange clothing ? Come, sit here and tell me of thy country 
and victories, and I will tell thee of my exploits, for I am Manito." 

He then filled two pipes with tobacco, that they might smoke as 
they talked, and when the smoke had warmed the old man's 
tongue he said: — 

" I am Manito. I blow my breath, and the waters of the river 
stand still." 

The maiden said: — 

"I breathe, and flowers spring up on all the plains." 

The old man said: — 

" I shake my locks, and snow covers all the cround." 



IN THE child's world. 377 



^'I shake my curls," said the maiden, "and warm rains fall 
from the clouds.'' 

The old man said: — 

"When I walk about, the leaves fall from the trees; at my 
command the animals hide in their holes in the ground, and the 
birds get up out of the water and fly away." 

The maiden said: — 

"When I walk about, the plants lift up their heads, the trees 
cover their nakedness with many leaves, the birds comeback, and 
all who see me sing. Music is everywhere." 

And thus they talked, and the air became warm in the lodge. 
The old man's head dropped upon his breast and he slept. Then 
the sun came back, and a bluebird came to the top of the lodge 
and called: "Say-ee, say-ee, I am thirsty;" and the river called 
back: "I am free; come and drink." 

And as the old man slept, the maiden passed her hands above 
his head, and he began to grow small; streams of water ran out 
of his mouth, and soon he was a small mass upon the ground, and 
his clothing turned to green leaves; and then the maiden, kneel- 
ing upon the ground, took from her bosom the most precious 
white flowers, and hid them all about under the leaves; then she 
breathed upon them and said: "I give thee all my virtues and 
my sweetest breath, and all who would pick thee shall do so upon 
bended knee." 

Then the maiden moved away through the woods and over the 
plains, and all the birds sang to her, and wherever she stepped, 
and nowhere else, grows the arbutus. 

C. E. Belknap. 



THE LITTLE PLANT. 

In the heart of a seed 
Buried deep, so deep, 

A dear little plant 
Lay fast asleep; 

Wake! " said the sunshine 
'■ And creep to the liojht," 



3T8 IX Tin; child's world. 



" Wake! " said the voice 
Of the raindrops bright. 

The little plant heard, 

And it rose to see 
What the wonderful 

Outside world might be. 

Kate L. I3kown. 

In '■'■American Teacher.'''' 



SUMMER. 



To THE Teacher: 



The subject of the seasons comes up so many times that the children 
will surely be ready with a gjood deal of conversation. Therefore the 
outline of this talk is very simple, first merely taking a look backward 
and forward to review the seasons and to notice that each brinfjs special 
joys; and then calling out the children's reminiscences of summer. 



THE TALK. 

Did any of you meet Jack Frost, when you came to kinder- 
garten this morning? Xo, 1 am sure you did not. The M-arm 
sunshine has chased liim away long before this. When will Jack 
Frost be here again? In the winter. Tell something more about 
the winter. What season came after winter? What did spring 
bring? Summer is coming now. (Question as to the characteris- 
tics of summer and compare with those of spring.) We have 
spoken of winter, spring and summer, and there is one more 
season, the season when the birds fly away to warmer lands, when 
the leaves change from green to red, yellow and brown, when 
the farmer gathers his harvest in for the winter, and when the 
flowers have made their seeds. 

Surely, you remember that all this was in autumn. Who can 
name the four seasons now? Do they all bring us something 
beautiful? (Show the children that we could have no s])ring if 
it w^ere not for winter, no autumn if we had had no summer.) 
If it were summer all the year, what should we miss? 

Here is a little verse about the seasons: — 

Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, 

All are beautiful and dear — 
Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter 

Make a joyous, varied year. 



380 IN THE child's WORLD. 

(Lead the children to contrast the seasons so that they will 
notice how much pleasure comes from the variety afforded by the 
change of season.) 

What do you think the farmer will be doing all summer? 
Hoeing and weeding in the cornfield, potato field and garden, 
gathering peas, beans, and other vegetables, picking cherries, 
berries, and other early fruits. 

What does the farmer do with all these things? Sends or 
takes them to market, so that city people who have no fields and 
gardens can buy fresh fruits and vegetables. 

In some of the farmer's fields we should see only grass growing. 
What will the farmer do with that? (Describe haymaking, 
and let the children tell what animals eat hay. Speak of sum- 
mer rains, thundershowers and rainbows.) 

What are you children going to do this summer? Are you 
coming to kindergarten? No, it will be vacation. Those who 
expect to go away during the summer vacation may tell where 
they are going. 

(The talk may be concluded witli an imaginary trip to the 
seasliore, some children enacting the waves running up on the 
shore and then retreating, other children pretending to play in 
the sand, and otliers imitating crabs, etc., on the shore.) 



TEACHER'S READING. 



Pepacton, ...._- John Burrowjhs 

A Vision of Sir Launfal, . . - - - Lowell 

A Midsummer Night's Dream, . . - Shakespeare 

They Come, the Merry Summer Months, - - William Motherwell 

Summer (Journal), - - - - - H. D. Thoreau 

Thank God for Summer, ----- Eliza Cook 

Summer Wind, ) 

A Summer Kamble, > . . . - . Bryant 

An Evening Reverie, ) 

Al Fresco, .-----. Lowell 

Grasshopper and Cricket, . . . - . Keats 

Grasshopper, .-.-.-- Leigh Hunt 
Summer Woods, - - - - - - M Howitt 

Rain in Summer, | . _ ... Longfellow 

A Day of Sunshnie, ) 




At the Seashore 



382 IX THE child's would. 



STORIES 

HOW THE BEANS CAME UP. 

Alice ]\ray was a little city girl who lived in a brick house which 
was just like all the other houses on the street, except that some 
of them had gardens in front, while Alice's house had but a tiny 
strip of green grass. 

When the warm spring days came, and all the people along tlie 
street were planting their flower seeds, Alice longed for just one 
little seed that she' might i)lant it, and perhaps some day have a 
blossom all her own. And one day, when '• Uncle Peter," as she 
called the good old scissors grinder, came along, she told him all 
about it. 

" So you want some seeds, do you?" said he. '' Where would 
you plant them?" "'Oh! just here, in this corner by the step," 
said Alice, " where they would get the warm sunshine, and I 
could water and watch them every day." 

'•■ Well, how will these do?" said Uncle Peter, drawing a hand- 
ful of Lima beans from his pocket; "I'm taking some home to 
plant myself, but I guess I call spare you those if you want them." 

''May I have them? Oh, thank you, Uncle Pcterl Pll plant 
them right away, and take just the best care of them." And as 
Uncle Peter trudged off, he saw Alice digging holes with a little 
stick, dropping the beans in and covering them with earth. 
Then she had to wait for them to come up; it seemed a long 
time. Every morning the first thing she did was to run out on 
the doorstep to see if there were any little green sprouts, such as 
she could see in the gardens all along the street. One morning 
she found — -what do you think? No little sprigs of green, but 
five beans, all split open, out on the ground! "Dear me," she 
thought, "I did n't plant them deep enough!" So she took a 
handful of earth and patted it down hard over each bean. But 
in two or three more days, there they were again, five beans, split 
in halves, on top of the ground. Alice covered them again, and 
3'et again, for they came peeping up four or five times. Then, 
after awhile, they did not come up any more; there was nothing 
for Alice to look at but the brown earth. 



IN THE child's WOltLD. 



383 



One morning Uncle Peter came to see how the beans looked, 
and Alice told him all about it; how they did not send out any 
green shoots, but just popped up themselves, and how they had 
not appeared at all since she last covered them. •' Dig down and 
see what vou find," said Uncle Peter. Alice found tlie little 
beans, all dried and withered: and Uncle Peter said: '' You see 
they are good for nothing now. After you planted them, they 
sent down little roots to hold themselves firmly in place and 
pushed themselves up out of the ground. If you had waited, 
you would have seen two little green leaves grow from between 
the halves of each bean, and then two more, and they would have 
kept growing till you would have had some nice little vines by 
this thne. isut it is n't too late to try again. Come home with 
me and I'll give you some more beans. This time Just plant 
them and let them alone." 

Alice did as she was told. Before many days the beans popped 
up, and this time she did not cover them at all, but waited and 

watered them, and the sun 
shone on them, and they sent 
up first one pair of leaves, 
then another, and another, 
till they were little vines, 
ready to climb. Then Uncle 
Peter came and set some 
poles for them to twine 
around, and they liked it 
very much. They climbed 
and climbed, and soon Alice 
saw some white blossoms on 
her bean vines. She did not 
pick them, but waited to see 
what would come of them. 
By and by the blossoms dropped off, and some tiny bean pods 
grew in their places; and uh, how fast they grew! 

At last, one day, before Jack Frost came, Alice found that her 
beans were ready to pick. So she picked them and took them 
in to her mamma, who cooked them for dinner. There were 
enough for all to have a taste— her papa and mamma, and all 




384 IN THE child's would. 



the brothers and sisters; and they thought the beans were 
very nice. 

The next year Alice planted some more beans, and tliis time 
she did not cover them up when they popped out of the ground, 
but waited for the green sprouts to appear; and there was time 
for ever so many beans to grow and ripen before the frost came. 

F. E. Mann. 

From " The Woman's Journal,'" Boston, Mass. 



MABEL ON MIDSUMMER DAY. 



" Arise, my maiden, Mabel," 
The mother said; '' Arise, 
For the golden sun of midsummer 
Is shining in the skies. 

" Arise, my little maiden, 

For thou must speed away 

To wait upon thy grandmother, 

This livelong summer day. 

" And thou must carry witli thee 
This wheaten cake so fine. 
This new-made pat of butter, 
This little flask of wine. 

" And tell the dear old body 
This day I cannot come, 
For the good man went out yester-morn. 
And he is not come home. 

" And more than this, poor Amy 
Upon my knee doth lie; 
I fear me with this fever pain 
The little child will die! 

" And thou canst help thy grandmother; 
The table thou canst spread. 
Canst feed the little dog and bird, 
And thou canst make her bed. 

" And thou canst fetch the water 
From the lady-well hard by; 
And thou canst gather from tlu- wood 
The fagots brown and dry. 



IN THE CHILD S WORLD. 



SSo' 



" Canst go down to the lonesome glen, 
To milk the mother ewe; 
This is the work, my Mabel, 
That thou wilt have to do. 

" But listen now, my Mabel; 
This is midsummer day. 
When all the fairy people 
From elf -land come away. 

" And when thou 'rt in the lonesome glen, 
Keep by the running burn, 
And do not pluck the strawberry flower, 
Nor break the lady fern. 

" But think not of the fairy folk 
Lest mischief should befall; 
Think only of poor Amy, 
And how thou lov'st us all. 

" Yet keep good heart, my Mabel, 
If thou the fairies see, 
And give them kindly answer 
If they should speak to thee. 

" And when into the fir wood 
Thou go' St for fagots brown. 
Do not, like idle cliildren, 
Go wandering up and down. 

" But fill thy little apron, 

My child, with earnest speed ; 
And that thou break no living bough 
Within the wood, take heed. 

" For they are spiteful brownies 
Who in the wood abide. 
So be thou careful of this thing. 
Lest evil should betide. 

" But think not, little Mabel, 
Whil'st thou art ir. the wood, 
Of dwarfish, wilful brownies. 
But of the Father good. 



386 IN THE child's would. 



" And when thou goest to the spring 
To fetcli the water thence, 
Do not disturb the little stream, 
Lest this should give offence. 

*' For tlie queen of all the fairies. 
She loves that water bright; 
I 've seen her drinking there myself 
On many a summer night. 

" But she's a gracious lady, 

And her thou need'st not fear; 
Only disturb thou not the stream, 
Nor spill the water clear.'" 

" Now all this will I heed, mother; 
Will no word disobey. 
And wait upon the grandmother 
This livelong summer daj'." 



Away tripped little Mabel, 

With the wheaten cake so fine. 

With the new-made pat of butter. 
And the little flask of wine. 

And long before the sun was hot 
And summer mist had cleared, 

Beside the good old grandmother 
The willing child appeared. 

And all her mother's message 
She told with right good will, 

How that her father was away 
And the little child was ill. 

And then she swept the hearth up clear, 

And then the table spread, 
And next she fed the dog and bird. 

And then she made the bed. 

" And go now," said the grandmother, 
" Ten paces down the dell, 
And bring in water for the day, — 
Thou know'st the lady-well." 



IN THE child's would. 387 



The first time that good Mabel went, 

Nothing at all saw she 
Except a bird, a sky-blue bird, 

That sat upon a ti'ee. 

The next time that good Mabel went, 

There sat a lady bright 
Beside the well, — a lady small, 

All clad in green and white. 

A courtesy low made Mabel, 

And then she stooped to fill 
Her pitcher at the sparkling sj^ring, 

But no drop did she spill. 

" Thou art a handy maiden," 

The fairy lady said; 
" Thou hast not spilt a drop, nor yet 

The fairy spring troubled ! 

*' And for this thing which thou hast done, 
Yet mayest not understand, 
I give to thee a better gift 
Than houses or than land. 

" Thou shalt do well whate'er thou dost, 
As thou hast done this day ; 
Shalt have the will and power to please, 
And shalt be loved alway." 

Thus having said, she passed from sight; 

And naught could Mabel see 
But the little bird, the sky-blue bird. 

Upon the leafy tree, 

" And now, go," said the grandmother, 
" And fetch in fagots dry; 
All in the neighboring fir-wood 
Beneath the trees they lie." 

Away went kind, good Mabel, 

Into the fir wood near, 
Where all the ground was dry and brown 

And the grass grew thin and sere. 



388 IN THE chii.d's would. 



She did not wander up and down, 

Nor yet a live branch pull, 
But steadily of the fallen bouprhs 

She picked her apron full. 

And when the wild-wood brownies 

Came sliding to her mind, 
She drove them thence, as she was told. 

With home thoughts sweet and kind. 

But all that while, the brownies 

Within the fir wood still, 
They watched her how she picked the wood 

And strove to do no ill. 

" And oh! but she is small and neat," 
Said one; " 'twere shame to spite 
A creature so demure and meek, 
A creature harmless quite! " 

" Look only," said another, 
" At her little gown of blue ; 
At her kerchief pinned about her head, 
And at her little shoe I "' 

*' Oh! but she is a comely child," 

Said a third; " and we will lay 
A good-luck penny in her path, 

A boon for her this day — 
Seeing she broke no living wood 

No live thing did affray! " 

With thft,t the smallest penny 

Of the finest silver ore. 
Upon the dry and slippery path, 

Lay Mabel's feet before. 

With joy she picked the penny up, 

The fairy penny good; 
And with her fagots dry and brown 

Went wandei"ing from the wood. 

" Now she has that," said the brownies, 
" Let flax be ever so dear, 



IX THE child's world. 389 



'Twill buy her clothes of the very best, 
For many and many a year! " 

" And go now," said the grandmother, 
" Since falling is the dew. 
Go down unto the lonesome glen, 
And milk the mother ewe." 

All down into the lonesome glen. 

Through copses thick and wild, 
Through moist rank grass, by trickling streams, 

Went on the willing child. 

And when she came to the lonesome glen, 

She kept beside the burn, 
And neither plucked the strawberry flower 

Nor broke the lady fern. 

And while she milked the mother ewe 

Within this lonely glen, 
She wished that little Amy 

Were strong and well again. 

And soon as she had thought this thought, 

She heard a coming sound 
As if a thousand fairy folk 

Were gathering all around. 

And then she heard a little voice, 

Shrill as the midge's wing, 
That spake aloud, — " A human child 

Is here; yet mark this thing, — 

" The lady fern is all unbroke, 

The strawberry flower unta'en! 
What shall be done for her who still 
From mischief can refrain? " 

" Give her a fairy cake ! " said one; 
" Grant her a wish! " said three; 
" The latest wish that she hath wished," 
Said all, " whate'er it be! " 

Kind Mabel heard the words they spake, 
And from the lonesome glen 



)'J0 i\ tiil: child's would. 



Unto the good old grandmother 
Went gladly back again. 

Thus happened it to Mabel 
On that midsummer day; 

And these three fairy blessings 
She took with her away. 

'Tis good to make all duty sweet, 

To be alert and kind; 
"Tis good like little Mabel 

To have a willing mind. 



Mary Howitt, 



THE STORY OF A BREEZE. 

Ouce upon a time a little Breeze who had been playing all day 
with the leaves and flowers, said to himself: "0 dear! I 'm of 
no use at all. I do nothing but play. I mean to ask the great 
strong Wind if I may go with him to-morrow and help hiiu in 
his work.'" 

So the Breeze was waiting in the early morning when the AVind 
started on his daily journey over the earth. When he cume 
rushing through the tree where the little Breeze had played for 
so many long days, he heard a soft voice like the rustling of 
leaves, saying: " Please, dear, strong Wind, may I go with you 
and help you to-day?" The Wind was in a great hurry, and said 
as he rushed along: "Why, yes, my dear, if you really wish to 
help." This made the Breeze so happy that he darted on, 
dancing and fluttering over the grass, and still keeping ahead of 
the Wind. 

Soon they came to such a queer building! It was quite high 
and had a large thing on one side that looked somewhat like a 
wheel. In the doorway stood a man talking with another man 
outside. Said the man outside: ''Well, Mr. Miller, is my flour 
ready? Our bread is all gone and we haAe no more flour, and the 
children must have something to eat." 

" I 'm so sorry, Mr. Smith," said the Miller, ''but the Wind 
has not been blowing for two days, and you know the mill oannot 
grind the wheat unless the Wind turns the wheel." 



ijs THE child's world. 391 



At this the little Breeze rustled briskly forward and came 
right down close to the man's face, whispering to him that the 
Wind — the good, strong Wind — was coming very soon to turn 
the great wheel of the milL 

When the miller felt the Breeze upon his face, he said joy- 
fully: "I declare! I really felt a Breezel I think the Wind is 
going to blow.'' 

By this time the great wheel was turning round and round. 
The Breeze knew that everything would be all riglit now, so again 
he started on, as light-hearted as ever, to be the messenger of 
the Wind. 

The next place they came to was a little village by the seashore. 
On a landing at the water's edge stood a woman with a baby in 
her arms, and a little boy and girl by her side. They were look- 
ing out over the wide sea, which was very smooth and beautiful. 
But the woman looked sad, and the little girl was crying. What 
do you think they were looking for? NVhy, the papa was a fish- 
erman, and he had been out upon the water for a week, and the 
mamma knew that he did not have enough food to keep him 
from being very hungry during that long time; and as his boat 
Avas a sailboat, she knew that he could not get home unless the 
Wind came to help him. 

The little Breeze saw in a moment what the trouble was; so 
he kissed the little girl on her cheek and dried the tears that 
sparkled there, lifted the golden curls on the baby's liead, and 
gently cooled the mother's aching brow, whispering in her ear 
that the Wind was coming. 

Then the little boy said: "0 ^raminal I see waves on the 
water!" So the Breeze knew that the Wind was bringing the 
father's boat homo to the dear ones waiting on the shore, lie 
stayed to sec the mother smile and the children clap their hands 
at the sight of the white sail that was now coming rapidly towards 
them from far out on the water. 

Next the Wind and the Breeze (>ame to a large city, llow 
beautiful everything looked! The Wind said to the lireeze: 
''Your work is here; they need you more than they do me in 
the city." And in another moment he was gone, and the Breeze 
had not even had time to ask what he was to do. 



392 IX THE child's WOJiLD. 



Tlie houses were beautiful aud large. Some were made of 
stone, some of marble, and some of brick; and all had parks and 
gardens around them. The Breeze saw some children phiying; 
so he stopped to have a little fun with them. He tossed their 
kites, waved their flags, and led them a merry chase after the 
hats of the little girls. Then he helped the Sun to dry some 
clothes that were lianging in a yard. In a short time he came 
to a part of the city where the air was very close and hot. He 
saw a great many people working in shops and mills. He saw 
how warm and uncomfortable they were. So he flew in at the 
doors and windows and cooled the tired workmen till they forgot 
their Aveariness and thought only how nice it was to be able to 
work for their dear ones at home. 

Again the Breeze went on his way; and soon he came to an- 
other part of the city where the houses were crowded — oh, so 
closely together! There were no nice yards here, no lace cur- 
tains at the windows for the little Breeze to play with, and the 
children did not seem to be so merry as those he had seen in the 
park. They Just sat on the sidewalk and steps, the only places 
they had, — with no kites, no flags, no pretty playthings, — and 
the little girls had no hats at all! 

" I '11 just peep in the window and see what kind of homes 
these children have,'' thought the Breeze. So he went in 
through an o})en window and what do you suppose he saw? On 
a bed lay a dear little girl whose face was deeply flushed and 
who tossed from side to side moaning pitifully: '' Mamma! 
I'm so warm!" But the mother w^as too busy to stop and com- 
fort the child; she had to do washing every day so that she could 
earn money to get the little one and herself something to eat. So 
the Breeze fanned the hot face and brushed the damp hair from 
the little brow till the child dropped asleep feeling comfortable 
and happy, and smiling as she slept. 

" She must be dreaming of the angels," said the Breeze, as he 
gave her a good-bye kiss. And so ended the day; but the Breeze 
still keeps on untiringly in his helpful aud cheering tasks, prov- 
ing a blessing wherever he goes. 

Mattie McRoy. 



SUNSHINE. 



To THE Teacher: 



The most auspicious and inspiring time for a talk upon sunshine, is on 
one of those brilliant days when the universe seems flooded with its radi- 
ance. The effects of a lacic of sunshine can be strongly im] res3,^d upon 
the children by planting the ever-useful bean in a pot and keeping it in 
a closet or other dark place. Let them see what a pale, sickly plant it 
becomes, in comparison Avith plants grown in sunlight. Draw the paral- 
lel between the plant and the child, as to the necessity of sunlight for 
healthy, vigorous growth. 

If the fact of the sun's standing still and the earth's turning and taking 
us away from the light is spoken of, it can be illustrated with a candle 
for the sun and a ball for the earth; or by letting the children " play" 
it in a very simple manner; and the follo\^ ing verse is offered as the 
sun's answer to "Good Morning, Merry Sunshine," where this way of 
dealing with the subject is preferred. (See Froebel's explanation of 
" The Little Boy and the Moon," quoted elsewhere.) 

THE SUN'S ANSWER. 

I never go to sleep, dear child, 

I 'm shining all the night, 
But as your world goes turning round 

It takes you from my light. 
And when it brings you back again 

You find me waiting here, 
To shine a bright " Good morning " down 

On all the children dear. 

E. P. 

In many kindergartens the spectrum is represented by colored papers 
arranged on a chart. Besides this, let us keep a prism or prisms hanging 
in the window, so that the children may have ever befoi-e them the 
mystery and wonder of the real spectrum in all the ethereal radiance of 
its blended colors. 



THE TALK. 



There is something in this room whicli came in so softly that 
no one could possibly hear it. You can all see it. Can you 
guess what it is? (Give the children suggestions, more or less 
definite, according to their skill in guessing.) It came a long 



394 IX THE child's world. 



way: it can come into tlie room even when the door is shut; it 
is out of doors, too, as well as in our room; it is bright — it is 
yellow — it is warm. We say " Good morning "' to it very often. 

Where did the sunshine come from? It is a long way from 
the sun down to us, is it not? AVhat shape is the sun? Can 
you show me? Let us sing ''This is the way sunshine comes 
down." 

Where is the sunshine falling besides in our kindergarten? 
On the home where mamma is, on the shop where papa works, 
on the farmer's iields, on the great ocean where the ships are 
sailing. 

(Try to give an impression of the sun's greatness by thus 
drawing out that its beams reach far and wide, over city and 
country, over land and sea.) 

Can we always see the sun? What hides it sometimes? Did 
you know that the sun is always shining, whether we see it or 
not — even in the night time? Our world turns round, and so 
takes us away from tlie light, but the sun is shining just as 
brightly as ever. That is a wonderful and beautiful thing to 
think of. is it not? 

What is the sunshine doing all day long? Giving us light, 
warming the air and the ground, helping plants and animals to 
grow, taking water (vapor) up into the sky, and in every way 
making the world more beautiful and more glad. 

(Speak of the sunshine at different seasons of the year. This 
l^oint and all the work of the sunbeams has been dwelt upon in 
other talks, so that much should be drawn from the children on 
this whole subject. Remind the children of the glazier as the 
one whose work gives us our windows through which sunlight 
enters our homes, schools, etc. Play the " Light Bird.") 

Would you like to catch a sunbeam? Can we catch it in our 
hands and keep it? ■ ISo, but I have a glass by which we can find 
out something very beautiful about the sunbeams. (Show the 
prism, and hold or fix it in the sunlight.) What do you see? 
Tell me all the colors you can see. 

(Repeated observations of the spectrum will be needed before 
the children can distinguish all the colors.) 

Have you ever seen a rainbow? Where was it? Do yoa 




The Rainbow. 



31)5 



396 



IN THE CHILD S WORLD. 



remember what the weather was, whether it was rainy weather 
or bright weather? It must have been both ut once I For we 
never have rainbows in the sky except Avhen the sun shines while 
it is raining. The raindrops show us all the colors which the 
sunbeams hold, just as this prism shows them. We can some- 
times see the rainbow colors in soap bubbles, too, or in water 
which stands in the sunlight. 

Can you find each one of the rainbow colors in the room? 



TEACHER'S READING. 



Explanations of " The Light Bird,"' etc., - 

The Sun, . . . . . 

Sun, Moon and Stars, - - - - 
The Fairyland of Science (Chap. II), 

Forms of Water, . . . . 

Modern Chromatics, - - - - 
Hymn to Sunrise in the Vale of Chamouni, 

Address to Light, - . . . 

A Day of Sunshine, - - - - 

Sunshine, . . . . . 

To the Eainbow, . - - - 
Man and Nature, / 

The Prospect, i ' ' ' " 
The Church Windows, ... 

The Thunderstorm, . - - . 

The Light of Life, . - - . 



Frcebel 
C. A. Young 

- Agnes Giherne 
Arabella Buckley 

Tyndall 

Rood 

Coleridge 

Milton 

Longfellow 

Mary Howitt 

Campbell 

- Mrs. Browning 

Herbert 

Emily Dickinson 

Mrs. Gatty 



FOR THE CHILDREN. 
The Dawn Princess ("Stories for Kindergarten and Home"). 



STORIES. 

THE WIND AND THE SUN. 

The blustering Wind was stalking up and down an open field 
one day, rejoicing aloud in his great strength. '' Oh, I am 
strong, indeed!" he roared. "I breathe, and the grasses bow 
down before me. I wave my hand, and the reeds and the bushes 



IN THE CHILD S WORLD. 397 

bend or snap. I can break even the stout tree branches, merely 
by taking hold of them. Oh, yes; 1 am strongi Who is 
stronger?" 

As hc' stopped and his rough, roaring tones died away, a 
gentle voice said : ''I am strong, too. Perhaps stronger than 
yon; who knows?" 

"Who is that?" roaied the Wind. 

*' It is I, the Sun," said the same mild voice. 

■'You strong! "said the AVind. " Youl with your soft ways 
and gentle smiles! Can you move mighty windmills? Can you, 
with a few touches, raise the wild waves upon the ocean? C'an 
you break the strong oak, the king of the forest?" 

'* I am strong," said the Sun again. "I can do many things 
that you cannot do. Shall we try our strength? Yonder comes 
a traveler, wearing a heavy cloak. Let us see which of us can 
force him to lay it aside, and agree that the one who does, shall 
be called the stronger." 

The Wind could not help giving a })leased whistle at this easy 
task, for he thought that he should probably get the traveler's 
cloak off by one strong gust. 

'• You may make the first trial,"* said the Sun. 

Away went the Wind. He met the travelernear the middle of 
the field and began to tug at the cloak. It flapped about a little, 
and the traveler fastened it more securely. The Wind tugged 
again and howled fiercely. The traveler took the edges of the 
cloak in his hands and wrap])ed it closely about him. Again the 
wind i)uffed and pulled and tugged. The bottom of the cloak 
fluttered, but the man only held it more and more closely about 
him. " Who would have thought there Avas such a wind to-day?" 
said the traveler, as he struggled on. 

The Wind kept trying for some time, but without success; and 
he was quite ready to give up when the Sun claimed his turn. 

"I don't see how you can do anything at all!" said the Wind; 
"for my angriest howls and my roughest pulls have only made 
him hold his cloak the more tightly." 

" I had not meant to try that way," rejflied the Sun. " Anger 
and roughness are not what I shall use." Tiien the Sun smiled 
down upon the traveler. Not a sound was heard; but softly,. 



398 IX Tin-: child's woim.d. 



steadily, silently, the Sun kept shining. The travelej-, who had 
been using all his strength to kee]) his cloak about him, now 
found the air (]uiet again, and walked on more easily. Soon he 
loosened his hold of the cloak. The Sun kept on shining, softly, 
steadily, silently; and the traveler began to think his cloak too 
thick, so he unfastened it and threw it "open. Still the Sun 
kejit on shining, softly, steadily, silently. 

At last the traveler said: "How strange! A little Avhile ago 
I felt that I could not hold my cloak too closely, and now I am 
glad to throw it off entirely.'' So saying he took off his heavy 
cloak and sat down under a tree to cool himself in the shade. 

And the AVind saw and acknowledged that the quiet Sun was 
indeed powerful and had won the title of " the stronger;" for 
without noise, without bluster, Avithout anger, the Sun had suc- 
ceeded in making the traveler take off his cloak, when the Wind 

had found it im])Ossible. 

Eetold bv E. P. 



THE SUNBEAMS. 
" Now, what sliall I send to the Eartli to-(hiy?" 
Said the great, round, golden Sun. 
. " Oh ! let us go down there to work and play," 
Said the Sunbeams, every one. 

So down to the Earth in a shining crowd, 

Went the merry, busy crew; 
They painted with splendor each floating cloud 

And the sky while i)assing through. 

" Shine on, little stars, if you like," they cried, 

" We will weave a golden screen 
• That soon all your twinkling and light shall hide, 
Though the Moon may peep between." 

The Sunbeams then in through the windows crept 

To the children in their beds— 
They poked at the eyelids of those who slept. 

Gilded all the little heads. 

" Wake up, little children! " they cried in glee, 

•' And from Dreamland come away! 

We 've brought you a present, wake up and see! 

We have brought you a sunny day ! " 

Emilie rolTLS.SON. 

" The Kindergarten/' 



X TIIF. CTITI d's \\(ii:i.I). 399 



THE STORY OF THE MORXING-GLORY SEED. 

A little girl one day in the month of May droi^ped a morning- 
glory seed into a small hole in the ground and said: " Xow, 
morning-glory seed, hurry and grow, grow, grow until you are 
a tall vine covered Avith pretty green leaves and lovely trumpet 
flowers."' But the earth was very dry, for there had been no rain 
in a long time, and the poor, wee seed could not grow at all. 

So, after lying patiently in the small hole for nine long days 
and nine long nights, it said to the ground around it: "0 
ground, please give me a few drops of water to soften my hard, 
brown coat, so that it miiy burst open and set free my two green 
seed-leaves, and then I can begin to l^e a vine! "' But the Ground 
said : '• That you must ask of the rain." 

So the seed called to the rain: '-0 rain, please oome down 
and wet the ground around me so that it may give me a few 
drops of water. Then will my hard, brown coat grow softer and 
softer until at last it can burst open and set free my two green 
seed-leaves> and I can begin to be a vine I" But the Rain said: 
*'I cannot unless the clouds hang lower." 

So the Seed said to the clouds: " clouds, please hang lower 
and let the rain come down and wet the ground around me, so 
thnt it may give me a few drops of water. Then will my hard, 
brown coat grow softer and softer until at last it can burst open 
and set free my two green seed-leaves, and I can begin to be a 
vine I '"' But the Clouds said: '' The sun must hide, first." 

So the Seed called to the sun: " sun, please hide for a little 
while so that the clouds may hang lower, and the rain come 
down and wet the ground around me. Then will the ground 
give me a few drops of water and my hard, brown coat grow 
softer and softer until at last it can burst open and set free my 
two green seed-leaves, and I can begin to l)e a vinel '"' " I will,'' 
said the Sun, and he v/as gone in a flash. 

Then the clouds began to hang lower and lower, and the rain 
began to fall faster and faster, and the ground began to get 



400 IX THE child's WOHLI). 

wetter and wetter, and the seed-coat began to grow softer and 
softer, until, at last, open it burst I — and out came two blight 
green seed-leaves, and the morning-glory seed began to be a ^'iiie! 

^[argaret Eytik k. 

''St. Nicholas." 



THE WATER BLOOM. 

A child looked up in the summer sky 

Where a soft, bright shower had just ])assi>(l by: 

Eastward the dusk rain-curtain liiinfr, 

And swiftly across it the rainbow sprunu-. 

" Papa! Papa! what is if? " she cried, 
As she gazed with her blue eyes opened wide 
At the wonderful arch that bridged the heaven, 
Vividly glowing Avith colors seven. 

" Why, that is the rainbow, darling child," 

And the father down on his baby smiled. 
" What makes it, Papa? " " The sun, my dear, 

That shines on the waterdrops so clear." 

Here was a beautiful mystery! 

No more questions to ask had she. 

But she thought the garden's loveliest llowers 

Had floated upward and caught in the showers — 

Rose, violet, orange marigold — 

In a ribbon of light on the clouds unrolled ! 

Red of poppy and green leaves, too. 

Sunflower yellow, and larkspur blue. , 

A great, wide, wondrous, splendid wreath 
It seemed to the little girl beneath ; 
How did it grow so fast up there. 
And suddenly blossom, high in the air? 

She could not take her eyes from tlie sight; 
" Oh, look! " she cried in her deep delight, 

As she -watched the glory spawning the gloom, 
" Oh, look at the beautiful water bloom ! "' 

Cki.ia Thaxtki: 



JJo^igliion, Mifflin <(■ ( o. 



THE MOON AND STARS. 

To THE Teacher: — 

" When a child first sees and contemplates natural objects whose being 
he is still unable to gras]?, he believingly accepts true as well as false 
explanations from grown-up people; and he finds both equally easy and 
equally difficult whenever he tries to grasp one or the other, if on any 
occasion both relate to the way to look at any j;iveu object. And so, no 
doubt, to begin with, a child is not helped in his view and grasp whether 
he be taught to know the moon as a man or as a beautiful, bright, swim- 
ming ball; whether the stars be pointed out to him as golden pins, or 
burning lights, or as sparkling suns which look so small because they are 
so far off. But while the fir sL explanation is, in spite of its apparent liveli- 
ness, a dead one, the latter bears loithiri it the foundation of a living , further 
development, that may lead to inner and more thorough insight." 

(From Froebel's explanation of "The Little Boy and the Moon," in 
Mother's Songs, Games and Stories. ) 



the skv.") 



THE TALK. 

(Question the children upon the observations called out by the 
talk upon " Sunshine " and lead them to tell what else is seen in 
Is the moon alone? What does she have for com- 
pany? Can we see the moon and stars every night? 
No; they are sometimes hidden hy the clouds just as 
the sun is, but they are in the sky night and day, 
even when we do not see them. 

How many of you have seen the moon? 
AVhat color is it? Does it always look 
round? (Have pictures which 
show the full moon, new moon, 
etc., and explain, if the children 
are ready for such explanation, 
that we can only see the moon 
when it is made bright by the light of the sun — only the part 
which shines, though the whole moon is in the sky all the time. 
Tell the children Jean Ingelow's verse in which the child says: — 






402 



IX THE CHILU S WOULD, 



■ O moon, in the night I have seen you sailinj; 

And shining so round and low. 
You were bright, ah! bright, but your light is failiiisj;, 
You are nothing now but a bow." 

.Speak of the Indian's way of counting time ])y so many 
*' moons," and of our word ''month.") 

Which loohs Lirger, the moon or the stars? Are tliere many 
stars? More than even the wisest man knows. Are the stars 
beautiful? Are they useful? (Explain how '•' tlie traveler in the 
dark'*' on land or sea can guide his course by the stars as well as 
see by their light. Remind the children of the star story of Christ- 
mas tide, if they do not mention it. Frequent use of songs 
about the moon and the stare will direct the children's thoughts 
to the heavenly bodies, and the subject should be recurred to 
after a little time has elapsed, as the children -will then be more 
ready Avith questions and their own observations. Artificial 
lights furnisli material for another talk: lights at home, street 
lights and the lighthouse with its work of mercy.) 



TEACHER'S READING. 



Explanations of " The Child and the Moon," etc., - Frcebel 

The Expanse of Heaven, - . . . . Proctor 

Easy Star Lessons, ------ Proctor 

Wonders of the Moon, . - - - _ Guillemin 

Among the Stars, ------ Acmes Gibern'e 

The Firmament, --_--- Ruskin 

Child's Dream of a Star, ----- Dickens 

The Will o' the Wisp, - - . . - 3/r.s. Gatty 

The Spacious Firmament on Iligli, - - - Addison 

Hymn to the Moon, ------ Ben. Jonson 

Self Dependence, - - - - - ^f. Arnold 

To the jSorth Star, -.-... Bryant 

The Light of Stars, - - - .. _ . Longfellow 

FOR TIIK CHILDIIEN. 

The Waning Moon, .--... Celia Thaxter 
The Wind and the Moon, . . - . George Mac Donald 
The Legend of the Great Dipper ("Kindergarten Stories 

and Morning Talks'), . - - - . S. E. Wiitse 




LiTTI.K LlXDA. 



4C?. 



404 IN THE child's world. 



STORIES. 

LINDA AND THE LIGHTS. 

Linda was a little child who was very fond of looking up into 
the sky. She lived in a small village near the sea, for her father 
was a fisherman. Linda liked to play down by the sea, digging 
wells in the sand, making sand hills or sand pies, or gathering 
the pretty shells which the waves brought to her; but she would 
sometimes leave all this play and sit quietly on a big rock, look- 
ing at the wide blue sea and the wide blue sk}^ — the sea dotted 
Avith the white sails of the ships, and the sky with white clouds. 

As she looked at the clouds, she used to say over a little verse 
that some one had taught her: — 



"White sheep, white sheep, 

On a blue hill, 
Wlien the wind stojjs 

Yon all stand still ; 
When the Avind blows 

You walk away slow — 
White sheep, white sheep, 

Where do you go?" 

She often fancied that the cloud masses did look like snowy 
sheep and lambs roaming over a broad blue field. 

At night, too, Linda loved to look up into the sky. When 
the full moon came out in all its round, silver splendor, throwing 
such floods of brightness everywhere, she wondered whether any- 
thing could be more beautiful. When she saw the tiny new 
moon — crescent-shaped, timid, lovely — glimmering out among 
the stars, she wondered the same about that, and sang with 
delight: — 

"O mother, how pretty the moon looks to-night! 
She was never so cunning before! 
Her two little horns are so sharp and so bright, 
I hope she won't grow any more." 



IN THE child's would. 405 

As she sang the whole pretty song, Linda woukl imagine her- 
self up in that "briglit cradle," rocking and floating in some 
wonderful way. and coming home down the glowing curve of a 
rainbow. 

Then there were the starry nights when the whole dark sky 
was spangled with sparkling, twinkling lights. Linda always 
looked for the Dipper and for the North Star to which it 
pointed. Her father had told her of some sailors who would 
have been lost on the sea if they had not had the North Star by 
which to guide their boat home, so she loved the stars for this, 
as well as for their beauty. 

While Linda was still a little girl, her father went on a long 
sea voyage and Linda and her mother went to live in the city. 
The noisy streets, the houses crowded close together — every- 
thing was strange to Linda, and she missed the shining, rolling 
sea, and the rocks and the sand; but at night when she stood at 
the window to look at the sky, as she always did before getting 
into bed, she said joyfully: "0 mother! the sky is just the 
same here anyway! There is the moon, and over there the 
Dipper, just as I used to see them! " Her mother smiled to think 
that Linda should be so surprised at finding the same sky, and 
told her, as she tucked her into bed, that the beautiful sky was 
over all the world. " And the same moon and the same stars? " 
asked Linda, " The same moon shines for all, dear," said her 
mother, "but when father has sailed far to the south, he will 
see some stars which we never see here. One cluster Avhich he 
will see is called the Southern Cross, because the stars make a 
cross, just as here some stars form the Dipper," 

The next day, before Linda had seen much of her new sur- 
roundings, a storm set in. All day the sky was dull and dark 
with clouds, and at night there was not a star to be seen. Linda 
was turning away from the window in disappointment when she 
heard a rattling sound outside, and a strong light flashed into 
the room. Looking out again, Linda saw a man right at the 
side of the house and on the level with her window, and the light 
came from a lamp which was fastened to the house, and which 
he had just lighted. 

In a moment he was down on the sidewalk and hurrvinff across 



4UG l-V TIJE CHILD S WOULD. 



tlie Street with liis little hulder on his shoulder. Linda looked 
after him with great interest. She could see only a little way 
into the darkness of the stormy night, but soon another light 
flickered through the mist, half-way up the block, on the other 
side of the street. Linda ran to the window in the next room, 
from which she could see farther; — yes! there was another light 
beyond, and there, still anotherl '' motherl Isn't it beauti- 
ful? See the lights I Did you know there were lamps in the 
street? And mother, see how light the lamp outside makes my 
room I I shall not need any other light to go to bed by. Are they 
lighted every night, mother? *' '• Xot in this city, ''answered her 
mother. •' Here they are only lighted on stormy nights, and 
nights when there is "'no moon," as we say — that is, when we 
cannot see the moon. 

The next night was also stormy and Linda was (juite ready to 
go early up stairs, to see the street lamps lighted. 

Soon she saw a light far down the street, — then another 
nearer, — and yesi that was the rattle of the ladder against the 
liouse; and there, suddenly, was the lamplighter himself, right 
beside her window again! Linda clapped her hands and laughed 
outright, and what do you think? The lamplighter looked up 
at the window and smiled at her. 

This was the beginning of an acquaintance. Linda called him 
her lami)lighter, and Avas always on the watch for him on dark 
nights. She had many questions to ask him about the city lights; 
and from what he told her of their number, and from noticing 
herself how many street lamps there were everywhere about, 
Linda began to see what a great work it was to light a whole 
city. She did not forget the moon and stars, though, even when 
she did not see them. She would look from the street lamps 
up to the clouded sky, realizing more and more the power and 
beauty of the far-off heavenly lights — the millions of sparkling 
stars, and the wondrous moon which, with its glorious, silvery 
radiance, could light not only the whole city as no lamps could, 
but sea and land far and wide besides. 

Emilie Poulsson. 



THE WEAVER. 



On this and the following subjects of Wool, Cotton, Linen and Silk, the 
suggestions to the teacher and "The Talks" are combined. 

(Sing some of the Tnide Songs, and then ask the children 
what kinds of work their fathers do. Let each trade be repre- 
sented by a child, and by one whose father works at that trade, 
as far as possible. Unless in the region of silk, cotton or woolen 
mills, the weaver will usually not be mentioned by the children. 
To bring out the necessity of his work, the teacher and the other 
children play that they need new clothes, and ask each of the 
tradesmen in turn to make some cloth. Each tradesnum tells 
what he can do, but owns that he cannot make cloth.) 

Just think! witli all these workmen there is not one who can 
make cloth for us I What shall we do? Some one must have 
made the cloth for all these clothes we have I Let us see if we 
can find out how it is made. (Take coarse material of any kind — 
cloth, toweling, flannel — and let the children ravel out some, and 
discover that it is made of threads. Now how are these threads 
put together? If the children do not find out from the cloth 
that the threads are woven, a coarse piece of 
ingrain carpet will show it very plainly. After 
seeing the "under and over" in a coarse fabric, 
the children should be shown that the finer 
fabrics are made of woven threads, too.) All 
the cloth from wliich clothes are made has Ijeen 
woven of some kind of thread. Can you guess the name of the 
workman who weaves the threads together? 

Did you notice that the threads in the cloth run two ways — 
some up and down, and some left und riglit? Do you see how 
that is like a paper mat with the st:ri[)s woven through it? (The 
warp and woof, the separation of Uie alternate threads, and the 
way the shuttle, carrying the thread, is passed through, and this 




-408 IN THE child's world. 



thread pushed down, can all be shown very well with a large 
weaving mat — one with narrowest strips is best. 

Let the children name all the articles they can upon which the 
weaver has worked, and lead them to notice that heavy carpets 
and finest linens and silks are the products of the loom.) 

As for the threads which the weaver uses — " that \s. another 
storv. "' 



TEACHER'S READING. 

Description of Loom _ . . . _ Encyclop(vdia 

Silas Warner, - . . . . . _ George Eliot 

The Betrothed, . _ . . . w_ Scott 

A New England Girlhood, ----- Lucy Larcom 

Spipning "Wheel Song, - - - - - J. F. Waller 

Sheep Shearing (from " The Seasons ■■ — Spring), - Thomson 

The Unused Loom (" New Lights on Old Paths "), - Charles Foster 
The Emperor's New Clothes. - - Hans Christian Andersen 

The Weaver's Song, - - - - - B.* W. Proctor 
My Sunflower's Fan, - - - - - " St. Nicholas,'' 1879 

FOR THE CHILDREN. 

New Work for Pense ("Each and All"), - - - Jane Andrews 
What Happened to Muslin ("Stories for Kindergarten 

and Home " ). 
Cloth and Paper Story (" Kindergarten Stories and 

Morning Talks"'), - - . - . S. E. Wiltse 



STORIES. 

A VISIT TO THE WEAVER. 

''Annie,"' said a lady to a little girl who was visiting her, 
'' would you like to go wuth me to the weaver's to-day? " 

''Oh, yes!'' said Annie, " I would like it very much. I never 
saw a weaver at work." 

So they set out. As they were walking along, the lady told 
Annie the story of " John's Trousers," so that by the time they 
reached the house of Mrs. James, the weaver, Annie knew not 



iisr THE child's world. 40C 

only where the wool came from, but also what had to be done 
to it before it was ready for weaving. N'ow, there are carding 
mills and cloth mills in which the carding and spinning and 
weaving are done by machinery; but the weaver whom Annie 
was going to see, wove in the same way that John's mother and 
sisters did when they made his trousers. 

The story had taken so much time that they reached the 
weaver^s house soon after it was ended. 

" Good morning, Mrs. James," said the lady; ■' I have brought 
a little friend to see you weave, if you have no objection."' 

'"No, indeed," said Mrs. James; "I shall be very glad to 
show her how the work is done. Have you ever seen a person 
weave, little one?'' 

''Only in kindergarten," replied Annie. "'We weave there; 
but we weave mats with paper, or leather, or flannel list, or 
braid, or tape. I never saw any one weave cloth or carpet."' 

'' I never saw any kindergarten weaving," said Mrs James, 
'*but I can show you how my loom works. The warp, as we 
call the yarn that is stretched on this frame, is first wound 
around that great beam overhead and then drawn tightly on the 
loom. We always measure three or four yards more than we 
want for a piece of cloth because some of the length is taken up 
in the weaving." 

''Why, there are two sets of threads," said xlnnie. 

" Yes; half of the threads go through one set of loops and half 
through the other," said Mrs. James. 

"Oh! I see,'^ said Annie; " and that thing that is full of yarn 
is your shuttle, is n't it? '" 

"Yes. Now see what happens when I press down one of 
these treadles with my right foot,'" said Mrs James. 

" Oh!" exclaimed Annie quickly, "half the threads are lifted 
up, and you throw the shuttle with your right hand so that it 
goes under those threads and over the others. That is like our 
weaving — only we have to lift up our strips one at a time, instead 
of all together. Now do you press down the other treadle with 
your left foot?'" 

" Not yet; the cloth would be too open if I did not draw the 
' strip,' as you call it, close up to the last one I put in. See! 



■410 IN THE CHILb's WORLD. 

I pull this bar toward me and it pushes the strip closely in place. 
In carpet weaving it is really a strip that is put through.*' 

''We push our strips up close, too/' said Annie, '' but we use 
our fingers instead of a bar." 

" That would do very well for paper weaving," assented Mrs. 
James, ''but not for making cloth or carpets." 

" No," said Annie, " I see that; for you pulled the bar very 
hard and used more strength than you could with your hands 
alone. What comes next?" 

" I press down the other treadle with my left foot, as you 
said, and throw the shuttle with my left hand," said Mrs. 
James; " then, the threads that the shuttle went over before are 
lifted up, so that the shuttle can pass under them this time." 

"And then you pull up the bar again, don't you?" asked 
Annie. 

"■ Yes," answered Mrs. James. "And now I will show you 
how much I can do in ten minutes. I have been working slowly 
so that you might see how the work was done, but now you 
shall see me rmlhj work I '' 

Then Mrs. James made the shuttle fairly fly back and forth 
fur awhile, and Annie watched her with wonder, making her 
own little feet and hands go just as Mrs. James did hers, though 
not so fast. 

After that Annie and her friend thanked Mrs. James for all 
her kindness and said " Good-bye." 

Josephine Jarvis. 

Cubden, 111. 

JOHN'S TROUSERS. 

{A True Story.) 

More than a hundred years ago our country was at war with 
another country called England, thousands of miles away. One 
morning, just after the war h;id begun, John told his mother 
that the troops were out and that he must join them early the 
next day. 

'• What shall we do?" exclaimed the patriotic mother: "John 
must have a new pair of trousers, and we have n't a bit of cloth 
in the house!" 




A Weaveu at HEit Loom. 



41'^ TX TlIK child's would. 



" Xor any yarn, either! " added Deborah, " I used the last in 
weaving the cloth for Charlie's jacket," 

'' Something must be done,"said the mother. " Perhaps we can 
get the trousers done, even if Ave have to spin and Aveave them. 
Let us try our very best! '' 

" Charlie and I will cut the wool,'' said Mary, the youngest girl. 

'•'I am afraid you cannot catch the sheep," said tiie mother. 
'•' They are in the pasture." 

"We'll take some salt," said Mary. "We can coax them 
with that." 

When they reached the pasture, Mary pointed out a black sheep 
and told Charlie to hold the salt toward it. Charlie did so and 
the sheep came running to him at once. While the sheep was 
licking the salt, Charlie put his arm around its neck and held it 
still while Mary cut oflf some of its wool with the shears. Then 
they caught a white sheep and sheared some of its wool in the 
same way. With this black and white wool in the basket which 
she carried, Kate ran back to the house so that her mother and 
Deborah might begin carding it at once. Mary and Charlie kept 
on with their shearing — first a black sheep and then a white one — 
until plenty of wool had been cut. 

After the wool is cut from the sheep, it is usually waslied and 
dried; but now there was no time to spare for that process. 
The cards used were blocks of wood nearly square, with a handle 
and slanting iron teeth. The wool was combed by these cards 
until it was made into soft, long rolls, when it was ready 
for spinning. 

After Kate and Mary came back from the shearing, they said 
they would do the carding so that their mother and Deborah 
could commence to spin. They owned two pairs of cards, and 
had borrowed an extra spinning wheel from a neighbor. 

As soon as yarn enough was spun the loom was jjrepared, and 
the weaving of the cloth begun. They all took turns at the 
loom, and, when the cloth was made, all helped in the sewing ; 
so that by working all night the trousers were finished in good 
season, and put in the bundle which John's mother packed for 
him the next morning. 
Cohden, III. Josephine Jakvis. 



WOOL 



(A picture of sheep, some wool in its natural state, worsteds 
colored and white, very coarse white flannel, other woolen goods, 
the eraser, the worsted balls, and cotton and silk for contrast, 
would be a good equipment of objects for this talk. Like the 
cow, the sheep is less familiar to our city children than its pro- 
ducts, so we take the products as the starting point. 

Exercise the sense of touch, distinguishing wool by its rough- 
ness. Let the children find out which articles of their clothing 
are of wool.) At what season do we wear woolen clothes most? 
AVhy? They keep us warmer. Yes, the heat of our bodies is 
kept in better by woolen clothing than by any other. Can you 
tliink of other things which are made of wool? Blankets, 
carpets, etc. 

(Fringe out the coarse flannel to show the threads of which it 
is woven, and untwist the threads to show the hair-like fibers. 
The children will see the similarity to the '' raw wool " better 
with undyed material; afterwards speak of the dyeing. I have 
seen a good color exercise in this connection, the teacher show- 
ing first white worsted, then worsted of some color, and asking 
what must have been the color of the dye used. 

Having traced the woolen clothes, etc., back to the wool, ask 
where the wool grew. Descrilie the washing and shearing of the 
sheep, not forgetting to tell the children that the sheep would 
shed much of the wool anywiiy and tire more comfortable Avitb- 
out it for the summer season.) 



414 IN lUK (IJll.D's WOItl.I). 



STORIES. 

HOW A IJTTLE BOY OO'J' A XEW SHIRT. 
{From the German.) 

There lived one time u poor widow who had seven children, 
and all must eat; so the poor mother had to go out to work all 
day, and onl}' in the winter evenings could she spin and weave 
shirts for her children, that they might not go naked. Each 
child had but one shirt, and when the largest had outgrown his, 
it went to the next in size. 80 it happened that the shirt that 
came to the youngest was always so thin that the sun shone 
through it. 

The youngest child M'as a happy little fellow four years old, 
who had a wondrous love for animals and flowers. Whenever 
he saw a lamb he ran to find fragrant leaves to feed it; when he 
found a young bird that had fallen from the nest he carried it 
home and fed it until it was grown, then let it fly away. He 
was fond of the spiders, too, and when he found one in the 
house he would carry it out of doors, saying: ''This little 
creature shall also live."' But one time his little shirt had be- 
come so thin and old that it fell from his body, and as it was 
summer and his mother must go to her day's work, she could not 
make him another. So he ran about just as the dear God had 
made him. 

One day as he was hunting for berries in the forest, he met a 
Lamb which looked kindly at him and said: "Where is your 
little shirt?" The little boy answered sadly, ''I have none and 
my mother cannot make me one till next winter. Bat no, the 
new one will be for my oldest sister and mine will be an old one. 
Oh, if I could only once have a new shirt I" Then the Lamb 
said: " I am sorry for you, I will give you my wool and you can 
have a new shirt made of it."' So the lamb pulled ail his wool 
off and gave it to the little boy. 

As he now passed by a thorn bush with his wool, the Bush 
called, "What are you carrying there?" "Wool," said the 
little one, "to make me a shirt." "Give it to me." said the 




Shearing the Sheep. 



415 



410 IN THE child's would. 



Thorn Busli, '' 1 will card it for you." The boy gave liis wool to 
the bush, which passed its thorny branches to and fro and 
carded the wool most beautifully. "Carry it carefully/" cried 
the Bush, " so that you do not spoil it." 

So he carried the soft rolls carefully along till he saw the web 
of a spider, and the Spider sat in the middle of it and called to 
him. '• Give me your Avool, little one. I will spin the threads 
and weave them. I see already how it is." Then the spider 
began and worked busily with his little feet, and s]nni and wove 
the finest piece of cloth yon ever saw, and gave it to the child, 
who trotted merrily along with it till he came to a brook, and 
there sat a great Crab which called out: " AVhere so fast? What 
are you carrying there?'* "^ Cloth," said the little boy, ''for 
a new shirt." '' Then you come to the right one," said the Crab. 
" Let me take your cloth." And he took it and with his great 
shears he cut out a little shirt very nicely. '' There, little one," 
he said, "all that remains to be done is to have it sewed." 

The boy took it and went on sadh^, for he was afraid that even 
then he could not have his new shirt till winter, when his 
mother would have time to sew. But pretty soon he saw a little 
bird sitting on a bush, and the Bird twittered, "Wait little one, 
let me make your shirt." So the bird took a "long thread and 
flew back and forth, working with its little beak, till the shirt 
was sewed together. "Now," said the Bird, "you have as nice 
a shirt as one could wish." 

And the little boy put it on and ran happily home to show it 
to his sisters and brothers, and they all said they had never seen 
a nicer one. 

Translated by Louise Stuart. 

The ''Kindergarten Mayaziney 



^[OLLY'S LAMB. 



Ever and ever so long iigo, when grandma was only little 
Molly Ray, she was one day going through the sheep pasture, 
when she saw a wee lamb lying under a tree, too weak even to 
cry " baa-a." 



IX THE child's world. 417 



"Oh! you poor little thing,'' she cried, ''where is your 
mother? " and then she took it up in her arms and looked about 
the field to see whether the mother-sheep would not come to 
her; but the sheep all went on eating grass Just as if nothing had 
happened; so grandma, not knowing what else to do, walked on 
slowly toward the house with the little wee lamb wrapped snugly 
in her blue checkered apron. On the way she met her brother 
Ned, and showed him what she had found. 

''It's a poor little stray," he said; "you take it up to the 
house, Molly, and give it some warm milk, and maybe it will 
come to life again — it's almost gone, but mother will know what 
to do." So grandma trudged back to the house as fast as she- 
could go. 

" See, mamma, see! "' she cried, as she burst into the kitchen 
where her mother was at work; "some bad mamma-slieep has 
gone off and left her lammie, and it's so hungry it can't walk! " 

Great-grandmamma was, no doubt, used to this sort of thing, 
for she at once set aside her work and brought au old basket 
from the shed, and with some soft flannel made a warm bed for 
the lamb; then, while grandnui tucked it snugly in, she warmed 
some milk which the half-starved creature sucked greedily from 
her finger; after eating, it grew stronger and stood up, giving a 
plaintive "' baa-a "' that went straight to grandma's heart. 

"' You dear little thing! " she cried, " you have n't any really 
true mamma now; but I will be a mamma to you, and will love 
you and take care of you just as nice^you '11 see! " 

And when she asked her father about it, he said yes, that the 
lamb should be hers, and when it grew into a big sheep she 
should have all the wool for her winter coats and stockings. 
But grandma did not care about that part of it; she only thought 
of it as it was then — a dear, woolly little playmate, all her own — 
and she loved it so well and was so gentle with it that it soon 
learned to love her, and would come at her call and follow her 
all about the farm; and she took such good care of it that it 
grew very fast, and its coat became so soft and fine that the birds 
loved to come and carry off bits of it to line their nests with. 

One warm spring day, grandma's father said to her: "The 
sheep are to be sheared to-day, Molly, and you had better see- 



41S 



IN' THi: CIIILDS WUKl.I). 



that your Uiiiib is there, for it is (juite time that she was rid of 
her winter coat." 

Molly did not quite like the idea of her pet losing its snowy 
wool, hut she knew that hot summer days were coming, when 
the lamb would be much more comfortable without it; and then 
the men were always gentle and never hurt the sheep. 

So after breakfast grandma called her lamb, which was now 
almost as large as a sheep, and they went out to the pasture and 
down to a stream, Avhere she found that the sheep had all been 
driven into a little pen beside the water, from which the men 
took them, one by one, and washed and cleaned their shaggy 
coats in the water: — for they had l)ecome quite gray, and were all 
tangled and burry — then they took a great i)airof shears and cut 
off all the wool. 

(irundma's lamlj had a very short bath, for its wool was already 
quite clean, and it did not mind having its wool cut very much, 
cither, which was a great relief to grandma; and when it was all 
olf she gathered it up in her apron and showed it to her lamb, 

telling it that the wool that had kept 
it warm the past winter would keep her 
warm next winter. And so it was, for 
grandma's mamma took it to her spin- 
ning room one day, and after combing 
it out very carefully, grandma Avatched 
her make it into long rolls which she 
hung across the great spinning wheel; 
then she took one in her liand and held 
it close to the spindle, turning the big 
wheel with her hand. Whirr I went the 
wheel round and round, turning roll after roll into nice, fine 
Avoolen yarn; then, winding it up on the spindle, her mamma 
brought out a buzzy little reel that wound it into great skeins, 
and there it was ready to make into balls of soft stocking yarn. 
How soft and pretty it wasi And whenever grandma sat down 
to knit, as she did in the long winter evenings, she thought of 
her dear little lamb in the warm fold, and was so glad she had 
found it in time that cold spring morning. 

iStories for the Kindergarten and tlie Home. 




1 .V 'III i; ciiiLi/s woKLi). 419 



SEQUEL TO AX OLD STORY. 

Mary had a little lamb, 

Which grew to be a sheep; 
The wool upon its back became 

Too thick and warm to keep. 

Then Mary's sheep did with the rest 

Down to the brookside go, 
And soon again it well could boast 
"A fleece as white as snow.'' 

The shearer came, and with his shears 

Cut oft' the heavy wool. 
Till every sheep was shorn at last 

And all the bags were full. 

The wool that came from Mary's sheep 

Was spun and woven, dears, 
And made into a nice Avarm coat 

That Mary wore for years I 

Emilie Poulsson. 



COTTON. 



(Show specimens of calico and 
other cotton goods. Contrast with 
woolen and let the children find 
whether their dresses, aprons, etc., 
are cotton or woolen.) 

Who made the cotton cloth? 
What kind of threads did the 
weaver use? (Ravel enough cloth 
for the children to distinguish that 
the threads are cotton.) Cotton 
cloth is made of cotton threads, 
just as woolen cloth is made of 
woolen threads. 

What are woolen threads made of? 
What do you think cotton threads 
are made of? (Show cotton bat- 
ting. Do not call it '^cotton wool," as that would be a 
confusing term.) Where did the wool grow? Now the cot- 
ton grew in a very different place. (Show the seed-pod, or 
boll of the cotton plant.) Where do you think this grew? 
Yes, on a plant. The soft, fluffy cotton is just the covering 
which Mother Nature has wrapped about the seeds of the 
cotton plant. (Describe the plant and show picture of cot- 
ton field.)* Did you ever see cotton growing? It grows 




* "Every year, in March or April, the seeds are planted. In a week or ten days the 
plants show themselves. By the last of June they begin to bloom. In the morning, 
when the blooms open, they are of a light cream color; later in the day they change 
to a deep pink. They die and fall off the second day, and then the bolls begin to 
form. They gi-ow very fast, and become as large as a small egg." 

When the seeds are ripe, the hot sun bursts the bolls open and shows the beauti- 
ful, snow-white cotton within. Then (about the middle of September) " the picking 
goes on. The fields are alive with busy workers. After that the cotton must be 
.packed into bales to be sent away." 



IX THE CIIILU'S WOULD. 4-21 



only ill the warm countries. Tell me some other things which 
grow in the warm countries. Yes; oranges, lemons, bananas — 
all these need very hot sunshine. The cotton fields must be 
a beautiful sight when the seed-jjods burst open and show 
the bunches of snowy cotton. Men, women and little boys 
and girls work in the hot fields picking these bunches from the 
cotton plants. The cotton then has the seeds taken out by a 
machine. After that it is sent to the mills and spun into threads; 
and then our good friend the weaver goes to work and weaves 
the threads into cotton cloth for Johnny's Avaist and Susie's 
apron, for papa's shirts, and mamma's dresses, and many other 
useful things. Does n't it seem strange that some of our clothes 
come from the sheep and others from the cotton plant? 



STORIES. 

MACHINERY MAGIC. 

Some years ago a great cotton exhibition was held in 
Atlanta. All the machines for ginning (taking out the seeds), 
spinning and weaving cotton into cloth were shown in one 
building. In a field near by, the cotton itself was growing. 

One morning some of this cotton was picked in the field and 
carried into the hall, where it was twisted into thread, woven 
into cloth and made into suits, which were presented to some 
gentlemen, and worn by them on the evening of the very 

same day. 

Holmes' Third Reader. 



COTTON FIELD STORIES. 

The sun shone with great heat upon a certain cotton field one 
bright noontide. The people who had been working there all 
the morning had gone to get their dinners, and the Cotton Plants 
had the field entirely to themselves. Now if ever plants talk 
together I should think it would be at just such times, should n't 
you? times when no people are near them? And so, 

" As I was saying yesterday," began one Cotton Plant, " it 



ii'i IN' Till: child's world. 



would be a satisfaction to know where the cotton goes after it is 
picked from our bolls." 

" Why, it goes to the cotton-gin," said a Plant near the edge 
of the field. 

" Oh I yes, I know; but I mean a/Yer that, when it really gets 
out into the world. I have heard something about the cleaning 
and the spinning and weaving, and the strange changes that are 
made in the cotton; but I should like to know more." 

"Tweet, tweet," said a sweet voice near. "I can tell you 
something." 

'• Who is that?" whispered the Cotton Plants. 

" Tweet, tweet," said the same voice. " I am only a little 
bird. My wing is hurt, or I should be far away in the pleasant 
Northern land now. Last year I was there." 

"Indeed!" said the Cotton Plants. They themselves always 
stayed in one place and preferred it, but they thought that the 
creatures who could move about were very wonderful. 

" Yes," continued the little bird, glad to have found listeners. 

"1 was there, yes! there, with my mate so clear. 
And our days were glad with love and cheer. 
Happy of heart and swift on the wiiig 
Naught did we do but carol and sing. 
We caroled with rapture, but soon, oh ! soon 
A deeper joy gave a sweeter tune. 
For my mate and I, in a tall, green tree. 
Built the prettiest home that you e'er did see. 
Such a cosy home! Such a precious nest! 
But the brood it held — Ah ! that was the best! " 

" That is a very pretty song," said the Cotton Plants. "But 
did you say you could tell us something about what becomes of 
our cotton?" 

" Tweet, tweet; that I can I " said the bird. "When my mate 
and I were ready to build our nest we had to search well for the 
materials. One day we were flying near the window of the 
house in which lives the family for whom we often sing, and 
there we saw the mother and little Nellie sewing. Pretty soon 
we heard Nellie's mother say that the birds would like some 
threads to weave into their nest, and Nellie threw a bunch of 
long strings out of the window. Oh, they were so fine and 




PiCKijfG THE Cotton. 



423 



•i'-2i i.v THi': child's world. 



strongl And — now I suppose you will think this the best part 
of my story I — those fine, strong threads were made of cotton 
from cotton plants. I am sure of it, for I heard Nellie's mother 
telling her the whole story. So that is what becomes of part of 
your cotton; Nellie and her mother sew with it and give some 
to the birds for nest making." 

The Cotton Plants had listened eagerly and now thanked the 
little bird for his pretty story, — "As pretty as your songs," said 
they, " and that is high praise. Come and tell it to us again 
sometime.'' 

" Gladly," answered the little bird. " Truth to tell, I am 
somewhat lonely at times, far away from my friends in the 
North, and I shall be happy to visit you." 

While the bird was telling his story, some of the Sunbeams 
which were playing about the field had drawn near to listen, and 
now they began to speak. 

" We know something about cotton," said they. *' Often and 
often have we heard the women say that there was nothing like 
the sunshine for bleaching cotton cloth; and often have we 
bleached it. But that is not all, for we not only bleach the 
cotton cloth — yards upon yards of it — but there is scarcely a day 
that we do not, with the wind's help, dry many things that are 
made of it, when they have been washed and hang clean and 
wet upon the line." 

"Yes, indeed," said a little Breeze, rustling among the Cotton 
Plants. •' The Sunbeams and I often work together at drying 
clothes, and most of them are made of cotton cloth — dresses, 
aprons, underclothes, stockings, sheets and pillowcases. Surely, 
Cotton Plants, you may feel that you are very useful, for people 
would scarcely know how to get along without the cloth which 
is made from your cotton." 

" These are delightful stories," said the Cotton Plants, nod- 
ding to one another, smiling as the Sunbeams danced among 
them, and spreading out their leaves for the Breeze to play with. 
" Now we can grow with more pleasure than ever before. Thank 
you, good friends; come again and tell us these stories often." 

Soon after this the workmen came back into the field. 
With them came a gentleman and his two children. The Cotton 



IN THE child's WORLD. 425 

Plants, of course, did not talk any more then, but oh, how they 
listened! for they soon found that what they heard was of special 
interest. It was more of the same story which the little Bird 
had begun and the Sunbeams and the Breeze had continued. 
The gentleman was talking with his children about what be- 
comes of the cotton after it is taken from the field; and he not 
only spoke of cotton thread and cotton cloth, but of cotton 
batting for comforters and quilts, of cotton which doctors use, 
of cotton cord and cotton lamp wicks, and of still other things 
made of cotton; more than you or I could remember! He told, 
too, of old, worn-out cotton rags being changed into beautiful 
paper — paper out of which books were made, paper for letters 
to be written upon, and paper of beautiful colors — " the very 
paper, Teddy, out of which were made the squares of folding 
paper and the weaving mats and strips which you used to have 
in kindergarten," he added, smiling down at the little boy. 

Teddy and his sister were looking with much wonder at the 
cotton plants, half expecting to see some of the things which 
their father mentioned sprouting out somewhere upon them; 
and they treasured long afterward the cotton boll and spray of 
leaves which were given to each of them as they went away from 
the field. 

You may believe that the Cotton Plants were full of wonder 
and joy. They had even ventured to say to the gentleman, as 
they had said to the Bird and the Sunbeams and the Breeze, 
'' Thank you, good friend. Come again and tell us these 
delightful stories often." But the gentleman, far from under- 
standing a word, had not even seemed to know that they were 
speaking. So the Cotton Plants contented themselves with 
telling the story to one another whenever they talked together. 

The little Bird kept his word and came again and again, as 
did also the Sunbeams and the Breeze; they were always ready 
to tell the same stories they had told before, of what becomes of 
the cotton, and the Cotton Plants were as happy as the day was 
long. And surely it is no wonder that the Cotton Plants were 
pleased to know that they were of so much use in the world, is 
it? For what is better worth being glad about than that? 

Emilie Poulsson. 



LINEN. 



The children will probably have difficulty 
in distinguishing cotton and linen, though 
the latter is colder to the touch. 

Speak of the superior durability of linen 
and its usefulness in bandaging, etc. Flax- 
seed should have been planted, so that a 
plant would be ready to illustrate this talk. 
The processes by which the raw 
material is converted into the finished 
linen, and, indeed, the whole subject- 
matter for a talk on linen or on paper, 
are presented effectively in Ander- 
sen's story. For the children the details of 
manufacturing processes are unimportant, 
and descriptions of them would be tedious; but 
it is different with the chief steps in such trans- 
formations as from the liax plant to linen, and 
from rags to paper. A visit to a paper mill would stimulate 
the teacher's interest. 




STORIES. 



THE FLAX. 

The ilax was in full bloom; it had pretty little blue flowers, as 
delicate as the wings of a moth, or even more so. The sun 
shone, and the showers watered it; and this was just as good for 
the flax as it'is for little children to be washed and then kissed 
by their mother. They look much prettier for it, and so did. 
the flax. 



the-r<a9Ssto pulp. 




4-27 



428 IN THE child's world. 

" People say that I look exceedingly well," said the Flax '' and 
that I am so fine and long that I shall make a beautiful piece of 
linen. How fortunate I am; it makes me so happy, it is such a 
pleasant thing to know that something can be made of me. 
How the sunshine cheers me, and how sweet and refreshing 
is the rain; my happiness overpowers me, no one in the work! 
can feel happier than I am." 

''Ah, yes, no doubt," said the Fern, "but you do not know 
the world yet as well as I do, for my sticks are knotty;" and 
then it sung quite mournfully — 

"Snip, snap, snurre, 
Basse lune: 
The song is ended." 

"No, it is not ended," said the Flax " To-morrow the sun 
will shine, or the rain descend. I feel that I am growing. I 
feel that I am in full blossom. I am the happiest of all 
creatures." 

Well, one day some people came, who took hold of the flax 
and pulled it up by the roots; this '^^a? painful; then it was 
laid in water as if they intended to drown it; and, after that, 
placed near a fire as if it were to be roasted; all this was very 
shocking. "Wo cannot expect to be happy always." said the 
Flax; "by experiencing evil, as well as good, we become wise." 
And certainly there was plenty of evil in store for the flax. It 
was steeped, and roasted, and broken, and combed; indeed, it 
scarcely knew what was done to it. At last it was put on the 
spinning wheel. " AVhirr, whirr," went the wheel so quickly 
that the Flax could not collect its thoughts. " Well, I have been 
very happy," he thought in the midst of his pain, "and must 
be contented with the past;" and contented he remained till he 
was put on the loom, and became a beautiful piece of white 
linen. All the flax, even to the last stalk, was used in making 
this one piece. "Well, this is quite Avonderful; I could not 
have believed that I should be so favored by fortune. The fern 
really was not wrong with its song of 

' Snip, snap, snurre, 
Basse lurre.' 



IN THE child's WOliLU. 429 

But the song is not ended yet, I Jim sure ; it is only just 
beginning. How wonderful it is that, after all I have suf- 
fered, I am made something of at last; I am the luckiest per- 
son in the world — so strong and fine; and how white, and what 
a length! This is something different to being a mere plant 
and bearing flowers. Then, I had no attention, nor any water 
unless it rained; now, I am watched and taken care of. Every 
morning the maid turns me over, and I have a shower bath 
from the watering pot every evening. Yes, and the clergy- 
man's wife noticed me, and said I was the best piece of 
linen in the whole parish. I cannot be happier than I 
am now." 

After some time, the linen was taken into the house, placed 
under the scissors, and cut and torn into pieces, and then pricked 
with needles. This certainly was not pleasant; but at last it was 
made into twelve garments of that kind which people do not 
like to name, and yet everybody should wear one. ''See, now, 
then,'*' said the Flax: " I have become something of importance. 
This was my destiny; it is quite a blessing. Now I shall be of 
some use in the world, as every one ought to be; it is the only 
Avay to be happy. I am now divided into twelve pieces, and yet 
we are all one and the same in the whole dozen. It is most 
extraordinary good fortune." 

Years passed away; and at last the linen was so worn it could 
scarcely hold together. '• It must end very soon," said the pieces 
to each other; " we would gladly have held together a little 
longer, but it is useless to expect impossibilities." And at length 
they fell into rags and tatters, and thought it was all ovor with 
them, for they were torn to shreds, and steeped in water, and 
made into a pulp, and dried, and they knew not what besides, 
till all at once they found themselves beautiful white paper. 
" Well, now, this is a surprise; a glorious surprise, too," said the 
Paper. " I am now finer than ever, and I shall be written upon, 
and who can tell what fine things I may have written upon me. 
This is wonderful luck! " And sure enough, the most beautiful 
stories and poetry wore written upon it, and only once was there 
a blot, which was very fortunate. Then people heard the stories 
and poetry read, and it made them wiser and better; for all that 



430 IN Till; child's woiili). 



was written had a good and sensible meaning, and a great bless- 
ing was contained in the words on this paper. 

"^I never imagined anything like this," said the Paper, " when 
I was only a little blue flower, growing in the fields. How could 
I fancy that I should ever be the means of bringing knowledge 
and joy to men? I cannot understand it myself, and yet it is 
really so. Heaven knows that I have done nothing myself, but 
what I was obliged to do with my weak poAvcrs for my own 
preservation; and yet I have been promoted from one joy and 
honor to another. Each time I think that the song is ended; 
and then something higher and better begins for me. I suppose 
now I shall be sent on my travels about the world, so that people 
mav read me. It cannot be otherwise; indeed, it is more than 
probable; for I have more splendid thoughts written upon 
me than I had pretty flowers in olden times. I am happier 
than ever." 

But the paper did not go on its travels; it was sent to the 
printer, and all the words written upon it were set up in type, 
to make a book, or rather, many hundreds of books; for so many 
more persons could derive pleasure and profit from a printed 
book than from the written paper; and if the paper had been 
sent about the world, it would have been worn out before it had 
got half through its journey. 

" Tliis is certainly the wisest jilan," said the written Paper; 
" I really did not think of that. I shall remain at liome, and be 
held in honor, like some old grandfather, as I really am to all 
those new books. They Avill do some good. I could not have 
wandered about as they do. Yet he who wrote all this has 
looked at me, as every word flowed from his pen upon my sur- 
face. I am the most honored of all." 

Then the paper was tied in a bundle with other papers, and 
thrown into a tub that stood in the washhouse. 

''After work, it is well to rest," said the Paper, "and a very 
good opportunity to collect one's thoughts. Now I am able, for 
the first time, to think of my real condition; and to know one's 
self is true progress. What will be done with me now, I 
wonder? No doubt I shall still go forward. I have always pro- 
gressed hitherto, as I know (juite well." 



IN THE child's would. 431 



Now it happened one day that all the paper in the tub was 
taken out, and laid on the hearth to be burnt. People said it 
could not be sold at the shop, to wrap up butter and sugar, 
because it had been written upon. The children in the house 
stood round the stove; for they wanted to see the paper burn, 
because it flamed up so prettily, and afterwards, among the 
ashes, so many red sparks could be seen running one after the 
other, here and there, as quick as the wind. They called it 
seeing the children come out of school, and the last spark was 
the schoolmaster. They often thought the last spark had come; 
and one would cry, " There goes the schoolmaster; " but the 
next moment another spark would appear, shining so beauti- 
fully. How they would like to know where the sparks all went 
to! Perhaps we shall find out some day, but we don't know now. 

The whole bundle of paper had been placed on the fire, and 
was soon alight. " Ugh,'"' cried the Paper, as it burst into a 
bright flame; "ugh." It was certainly not very pleasant to be 
burning; but when the whole was wrapped in flames, the flames 
mounted up into the air, higher than the flax had ever been able 
to raise its little blue flower, and they glistened as the white 
linen never could have glistened. All the written letters be- 
come quite red in a moment, and all the words and thoughts 
turned to fire. 

'•Now I am mounting straight up to the sun,"' said a voice in 
the flames; and it was as if a thousand voices echoed the words; 
and the flames darted up through the chimney, and went out at 
the top. Then a number of tiny beings, as many in number as 
the flowers on the flax had been, and invisible to mortal eyes, 
floated above them. They Avere even lighter and more delicate 
than the flowers from which they were born; and as the flames 
were extinguished, and nothing remained of the paper but black 
ashes, these little beings danced upon it; and whenever they 
touched it, bright red sparks appeared. 

" The children are all out of school, and the schoolmaster was 
the last of all," said the children. It was good fun, and they 
sang over the dead ashes — 



4oi is' TIIl'J child's WUKIJ). 



" Snip, snap, snurre, 
Basse lurre: 
The sonar is ended." 



But the little invisible beings said: " The song is never ended; 
the most beautiful is yet to come." 

But the children could neither hear nor understand this, nor 
should they; for children must not know everything. 

Hans Andersex, 



THE FLAX FLOWER. 

Oh, the little flax flower ! 

It groweth on the hill, 
And, he the breeze awake or 'sleep, 

It never standeth still. 
It Ki"oweth, and it groweth fast; 

One day it is a seed 
And then a little grass}' blade 

Scarce better than a weed. 
But then out comes the flax flower 

As blue as is the sky; 
And " 'tis a dainty little thing," 

We say as we go by. 

Ah ! 'tis a goodly little thing. 

It groweth for the poor. 
And many a peasant blesseth it 

Beside his cottage door. 
He thinketh how those slender stems 

That shimmer in the sun 
Are rich for him in web and woof 

And shortly shall be spun. 
He thinketh how those tender flowers 

Of seed will yield him store. 
And sees in thought his next year's crop 

Blue shining round his door. 

Oh, the little flax flower! 
The mother then says she, 
" Go, pnll the thyme, the heath, the fern, 
But let the flax flower be ! 
It groweth for the children's sake. 
It growetli for our own; 



IN THE child's ^vorld. 433 

There are flowers enough upon the hill, 

But leave the flax alone ! 
The farmer hath his fields of wheat, 

Much Cometh to his share; 
We have this little plot of flax 

That we have tilled with care." 

Oh, the goodly flax flower! 

Itgroweth on the hill. 
And, be the breeze awake or 'sleep, 

It never standeth still. 
It seemeth all astir with life 

As if it loved to thrive, 
As if it had a merry heart 

Within its stem alive. 
Then fair befall the flax field, 

And may the kindly showers 
Give strength unto its shining stem, 

Give seed unto its flowers ! 

Maky Howitt. 



SILK. 



rfO""! "- Qj-m. Silkworm cocoons can usually be obtained 

^'' ^^^ and should always be shown during this 

talk. Sewing silk, ribbons and pieces of 
silk will also be needed. See whether the 
children remember where wool and cotton 
and linen came from, and who were the 
chief workers in the manufacture of the 
goods. That the beautiful, shining silk can 
be traced back to so small a creature as the 
silkworm, is always a delight to children. The following stories 
and verses will supply the points for a talk upon silk, especially 
if the subject is taken up after cotton, wool, and linen. 




STORIES. 

THE LIFE OF A SILKWORM. 

Once there was a baby Caterpillar who found himself on a 
broad, green leaf, in a mulberry tree; and on the stems between 
the leaves were pretty, yellow-white berries, very much like the 
raspberries that you city children see in the grocery stores in the 
summer. This little Caterpillar lifted his brown head up and 
stretched himself and looked all around him; and he tl'i^ught: 
"AVelll this is a very nice place to be in I" Then he crawled all 
around the leaf and went underneath it. While he was under- 
neath he thought he would have a little fun; so he held on with 
his fore feet, and swung back and forth, and then drew himself 
ujD again, and had a grand time. 

The warm summer winds played in and out through the 
branches of the trees, whispering to each other and rocking the 
leaf on which the baby Caterpillar was crawling, until at last he 




In the Silk Factcky. 



4:i(j IN THE child's WORLD. 

began to feel tired, and rolled himself into a ring and took a 
little nap; for caterpillars never sleep very long at one time. 
When he woke np he was very hungry. He did not know what 
to eat, so he thought he would taste a piece of the leaf on which 
he was lying, for it looked extremely nice. When he bit into it, 
it tasted so very good that he kept on eating till the whole leaf 
was gone. Then he traveled down the stem and found another 
leaf that he thought he would like; and he curled himself up on 
that to rest before commencing to eat again. He kept on in 
this way for a long time — eating and resting, eating and resting 
— till he grew so big and fat that his clothes were too tight for 
him and he felt very uncomfortable. So Mother Nature went 
to work and made him a new suit. It was just like his old one, 
only I little larger, and he was very much pleased with it. But 
he ate so 7nuch and grew so i^ery fast that Mother Nature had to 
make him two or three new suits, and he began to grow tired of 
wearing the same kind of clothes all the time and of crawling 
around and eating the same kind of food. He had tried eating 
one of the nice looking berries one day, but it had made him 
very sick. 

Now when Mother Nature found that he was getting so fret- 
ful, she said to him: "Well, my dear, what is the matter with 
you? You are not the same contented little Caterpillar you were 
a few weeks ago. What is it? What do you want?"' 

And the Caterpillar said: " Oh, I don't know, I'm sure — but 
I am so tired of crawling around on these leaves! I wish I could 
fly away! " 

"H'm!" said Mother Nature, ''that's the trouble, is it? 
Very well, dear; you are quite right. All my caterpillars have 
that feeling sooner or later. Only be patient a little longer and 
yon. sJiall fly." 

"I fly! " said the Caterpillar; and he looked at his clumsy 
body and thick feet, and then at a butterfly with gorgeous wings 
just passing over his head. He was so amused and laughed so 
hard that he almost rolled oQ the leaf. 

" Well," said Mother Nature, ''would n't you like to fly?" 

"Oh, yes," said the Caterpillar, "I would, indeed! but wings. 
Mother Nature; I have no wings! " 



IX THE child's world. 437 

"Don't be troubled about the wingj, little Caterpillar," 
Mother Nature answered. ''That is for me to attend to; and I 
generally bring things all right in the end, when I undertake 
them." 

So she taught the Caterpillar how to spin, and then how to 
choose a good, firm twig and fasten his thread to it; and the 
Caterpillar went back and forth, and back and forth, with his 
thread, till he made himself a nice hammock. Then he was 
very much pleased, and thought: ''This is great fun; I like 
this spinning and weaving." And he worked so hard that he 
forgot all about eating. He spun on and on, and wound the 
thread around and around, until he became so dizzy that when he 
stopped he did not notice at first that he was in the dark. But 
when he found himself completely wrapped about, with no way 
of escape, he called: "0 dear Mother Nature! I've shut my- 
self in. How shall I ever get out?" 

And Mother Nature said: " Oh! you are all right, dear Cater- 
pillar. Go to sleep now and rest; I will tell you how to get out 
when the proper time comes." 

So, as the Caterpillar was very tired and sleepy, he thought 
this was the best thing he could do. He took off his clothes 
(for it was very warm in the little cradle he had spun for him- 
self), and tucked them all down at his feet, and then lay down 
to take a good sleep. 

Every time the wind blew and shook the twig, the cradle swung 
back and forth, rocking the Caterpillar into a still sounder slum- 
ber. After he had been asleep a long, long time, he Avas 
awakened one day by a great shaking of his cradle; and, as he 
was only half awake, he thought: " Oh, those threads which I 
spun must have broken! " After that there came another shake, 
and Mother Nature called: " Wake up! Wake up! It is time 
to come out! " 

And the Caterpillar said: "How shall I get out? It is dark in 
here, and I 'm very stiff from being so long in one position." 

" Force your way out," answered Mother Nature. So he made 
a little round hole right at his head, and pulled himself through. 

" I don't call this flying! " said he. " I believe that I 'm just 
the same clumsy caterpillar that I was before." 



■ioH IN THh child's would. 



'' Oh, no, you are not," said Mother Nature. 

Then the Caterpilhir opened his eyes very Avide and looked at 
his feet and did not know what to say, for they were changed 
entirely; and, while he was wondering, he felt something grow- 
ing looser and looser all around his body. " Oh! " thought he, 
"I'm falling to pieces!'"' and he caught hold of his old cradle 
with his feet and hung on quite frightened, shutting his eyes 
and shaking all over. After he had hung there for a little while 
he grew quieter; and finally he heard Mother Nature saying 
gently : ' • My dear Moth ! " 

He looked up. " You don't mean me," said he; *' I 'm a 
Caterpilhir!" 

But Mother Nature answered, "No, not now. Do you not 
remember? You wanted to fly; so while you were asleep in that 
cradle I changed you into a moth. Now you have wings and 
can fly! "' 

And sure enough he really Jiad wings — beautiful wings! They 
had been rolled around his body when he first came out, but 
now he began to wave them back and forth, and soon they were 
dry and strong. 

Then away he flew, fluttering gaily over the green fields; for 
now he did not have to crawl about slowly and live upon mul- 
berry leaves, but could fly wherever he chose, sipping honey 
from the beautiful flowers. 

Nettie Fleming. 



THE SILKWORM. 

Silkworm on the mulberry tree, 
Spin a silken robe for me; 
Draw the threads out line and strong. 
Longer yet — and very long; 
Longer yet — 'twill not be done 
Till a thousand more are spun, 
Silkworm, turn this mulberry tree 
Into silken threads for me! 

All day long, and many a day. 
Busy silkworms spin away; 
Some are ending, some beginning, 
Nothing thinking of but spinningi 



IX TJii:; child's would. 439 

AVell for them I Like silver Kght, 
All the threads are smooth and bright; 
Pure as day the silk must be, 
Woven from the mulberry tree! 

Te are spinning well and fast; 
'Twill be finished all at last. 
Twenty thousand threads are drawn 
Finer than the finest lawn; 
And as long, this silken twine. 
As the equinoctial line! 
What a change ! The mullierry tree 
Turneth into silk for me ! 

Mauy Howitt. 



THE GODDESS OF THE SILKWORM. 

Once upon a time the Chinese people dressed chiefly in the skins 
of animals, but these began to grow scarce and the question arose 
a£ to what the people should do for clothing. 

According to the old stories the answer was found in this way. 
Hoangti, the third emperor of China (3600 B. C.), had a wife 
named Si Ling Shi, and Si Ling Shi, who must have been a 
thoughtful woman, and interested in the welfare of the people, 
began to try to tind some material which should take the place 
of the animal skins. 

Nothing did she find, liowever, even with much thought and 
searching, until one morning when she was Avalking as usual in 
the beautiful palace garden among the mulberry trees. 

Si Ling Shi had probably often seen the silkworm cocoons there 
before, but on this day as she looked at the loose, filmy outside webs 
of the cocoons, the idea came to her that a fabric which could be 
used for clothing might be made out of these delicate threads. 
ISIany earnest people had to give a great deal of thought to the 
Avork, and many trials had to be made, but at last the way was 
found. The threads were wound otf from the cocoons, twisted 
together and woven, and thus was made the shining, rustling stuff 
which we call silk. 

The people were so grateful to the Avise, observant and 
ingenious Si Ling Shi for her discovery, that they ever after 
called her the '' (loddess of the Silkworm.'' E. P. 



ALPHABETICAL INDEX. 



A Barnyard Talk 324 

A Boston Thanksgiving Story 93 

Adventure, The Minnow's 242 

A Kitten Rhyme 145 

A Lessiin of Faith. 307 

An All-the-Year-Round Story 113 

A Narrow Escape 356 

An Autumn Song 48 

An Old-fashioned Rhyme 30 

An Old Story, Sequel to 419 

Ant, The Dove and the 80 

Ants, A Story of (Mrs. Flyaway) 361 

Apple-Seed John 59 

Apple, The Sleeping 7 

Apple Trees, The Four 256 

Arbutus, The Indian Legend of 375 

A Surprise 274 

A True Pigeon Story 81 

A True Story of a Dog 180 

Autumn 45 

Autumn, Birds in 11 

Autumn Song, An 48 

A Visit to the Weaver 408 

A Wise Old Horse. 151 

Baby Buds' Winter Clothes, The 47 

Bag of Winds, Odysseus and the 09 

Baker, The 82 

Bakery, Nero at the 88 

Barn, Christmas in the 119 

Barnyard Talk, A 324 

Basket, The Flower 106 

Beans Came Up, How the 382 

Beauty, Sucha 317 

Beel, The 344 

Bee 11, The 352 

Bees, Edith and the 348 

Bees, Solomon and the 360 

Bird. Child and 290 

Birds ..•• 282 

Birds' Christmas, The 125 

Birds in Autumn 11 

Birds, Lisa and the 13 

Birds' Nests S92 

Birds. The Farmer and the 320 



Bird Thoughts 16 

Birthday Cake, ITeddy's 88 

Birthday, Frcebel's 279 

Birthday, Song for Frcebel's 281 

Birthday, Washington's 197 

Blacksmith, The 201 

Boston Thanksgiving Story, A 93 

Boy Got a New Shirt, How the Little. 414 
Boy, The Rhyme of the Little Idle. . . . 346 

Boys, The Chestnut 49 

Breeze, The Story of a. 390 

Brook and the Water Wheel, The 837 

Butterfly, The 302 

Butterflies, Some Common 306 

Cakp, Teddy's Birthday 88 

Cake, The Johnny 85 

Camp, The Logging 19 

Carpenter, The 25 

Cat, The 140 

Caterpillar, The 313 

Chestnut Boys, The 49 

Chicken, The Lost. 333 

Chickens, The Hen and 331 

Child and Bird 290 

Children, The Cobbler and the 189 

China Rabbit Family, The 80 

Christel, The Dream of Little Ill 

Christmas 117 

Christmas in the Barn 119 

Christmas, The Birds' 125 

Cleverness of a Sheep Dog 178 

Clock. The 33 

Clock Told Doily, What the 36 

Clothes, The Baby Buds' Winter 47 

Clytie 374 

Coal 214 

Cobbler, The 181 

Cobbler and the Children, The 189 

Colors, The Nest of Many 297 

Common Butterflies, Some — 306 

Constant Dove, The 80 

Cornwallis' Kncebuckles. Lord 172 

Cotton 420 

Cotton Field Stories 421 



ALPHABETICAL INDEX. 



'441 



Cow, The 157 

Cow that Lost her Tall, The 161 

Crane Express, The 14 

Cycle, The Dandelion 69 

Dandelion, How West Wind Helped. . 65 

Day, Mabel on Midsummer's 384 

Day, St. Valentine's 191 

Day, Thanksgiving 90 

Deeds of Kindness, Little 27 

Did, What They 371 

Discontented Pendulum, The 41 

Dog and the Kitten, The 180 

Dog, Cleverness of a 178 

Dog, The 174 

Dog, A True Story of a 180 

Dolly, What the Clock Told 36 

Dove and the Ant, The.. 80 

Dove, The Constant 80 

Do What you Can 235 

Dream of Little Christel, The Ill 

Echo, The Story of . . . 257 

Edith and the Bees 348 

Escape, A Narrow 356 

Express, The Crane 14 

Fairy's New Year Gift, The 138 

Faith, A Lesson of 307 

Family, Spotty's 146 

Family, The China Rabbit 86 

Fantail Pigeon, The 76 

Farmer, The 321 

Farmer and the Birds, The 325 

Fed his Friend, The Horse that 156 

Fishes 2.39 

Five Peas in a Pod .53 

Flax, The 426 

Flax Flower, The 432 

Flower Basket or Loving and Giving, 106 

Flowers 366 

Flyaway, Mrs 361 

Fountain, The Immortal 222 

Four Apple Trees, The 256 

PMend, The Horse that Fed hi.s 156 

Frisk Came Home, How 176 

Froebel, Friedrich 276 

Frcebel's Birthday, Song for 281 

Frost and his Work, Jack 104 

Fruits 3 

Gift, The Fairy's New Year 138 

Give Thanks, To Whom shall we 219 

Goddess of the Silkworm, The 430 

Golden Touch, The 213 

coody Two ^hoes 184 



Go Sleep Story, The 115 

Gustava, Little .32» 

Haarlem, The Little Hero of 232 

Helpers, Spring and Her 265 

Hen and Chickens, The .331 

Hero of Haarlem, The Little 232 

Honest Woodman, The 32 

Horse, The. 148 

Horse, A Wise Old 151 

Horse that Fed his Friend, The 156 

Household, The Plant 373 

How Frisk Came Home 176 

How Patty Gave Thanks 94 

How the Beans Came Up 382 

How the Little Boy Got a New Shirt . 414 
How West Wind Helped Dandelion. . . 65 

Idle Boy, The Rhyme of the Little ... 316 

Immortal Fountain, The 22J 

Indian Legend of the Arbutus, Thr... :',7.> 

Jack and Jenny Sparrow 285 

Jack Frost and his Work 104 

Jet, My 144 

John, Apple-Seed .59 

Johnny Cake, The S5 

John's Trousers 410 

Kindness, Little Deeds of 27 

Kind Old Oak, The 48 

Kitten Rhyme, A 145 

Kitten, The Dog and the 18(> 

Kneebuckles, Lord Cornwallis' 172 

Lamb, Molly's 416 

Legend of the Arbutus, The 375 

liCSSon of Faith, A 307 

Lesson. Pe-wee's 336 

Life of a Silkworm, The 434 

Linda and the Lights 404 

Linen 426 

Lisa and the Birds 13 

Litt'e Boy Got a New Shirt, How the. 414 

Little Christel, Dream of Ill 

Little Deeds of Kindness 27 

Little Gustava 329 

Little Hero of Haarlem, The 232 

Little Idle Boy, The Rhyme of 346 

Little Plant, The 377 

Little Servants 108 

Little Worm that was Glad to be Alive 272 

Little Yellow- wine — 288 

Logging Camp, The 19 

Lord Cornwallis' Kneebuckles 172 

Lost Chicken, The 33i 

T;Ost her Tail, The Cow that 16.1 



44:; 



A l.I'H A 1! Kl'TICA 1. IM»K \ . 



Mabel on Midsummer's Day :i84 

Machinery Masic 4~l 

Maple Tree's Surprise, The — 25S» 

Meeting of the Wind?. The 20!) 

MillcToldme, The Story the 160 

Miner. The S0!» 

Minnow's Adventure, The 242 

Molly's Lamb.. 416 

Moon and the Stars, The 401 

Morning-glory Seed, The Story uf a . . 399 

Mouse, Santa Clans anil the 122 

Mrs. Flyaway — 361 

Mr. Stickleback 247 

My Jet 144 

!Nahum Prince 205 

Narrow Escape, A .356 

^'eptune 236 

Nero at the Bakery 88 

Nest of Many Colors, The 297 

Nests, Birds' 292 

Nest, The Sparrow's .300 

New "i'ear, The 131 

New Year Gift. The Fairy's 138 

North Wind at Play 71 

Oak. The Kind Old 48 

Odysseus and the Bag of Winds 69 

Old-fashionetl Rhyme, An 30 

Old Horse, A Wise 151 

Old Story, Setiuel to an 41!; 

Patty (Jave Thanks, How 94 

Pearl and her Pigeons 79 

Peas in a Pod, Five — 53 

Pegasus 154 

Pendulum, The Discontented 41 

Pe-wee's Lesson 3.36 

Philips Valentine 191 

Piccola 129 

Pigeons, The 73 i 

Pigeons, Pearl and Her 79 , 

Pigeon Story, A True Kl ] 

Pigeon, The Fantail 76 I 

Plant Household, The 378 j 

Plant, The Little 377 | 

Play, North Wind at 71 

Pod, Five Peas in a 53 

Prince, T^ ahum 205 ' 

Psyche's Task 57 

Pussy Willow 262 

Rabbit Family, The China 86 

Rhyme, A Kitten 145 

Rhyme, An old-fash'oned .30 

Rhyme of the Lifle Idle Boy, The.. . 34 
Ro<-*ky, Stony and 230 , 



Sandpipers, The 290 

Santa Claus and the M'luse I'.i3 

Scarecrow, The 296 

See, Wait and 7 

Seed, The Story of a Morning-glory. . . 39!) 

Seeds 51 

Seeing Shoes Made — 187 

Servants, Little 108 

Sheep Dog, Cleverness < >f a 1 78 

Shirt, How a little Boy (Jot a New 41 J 

Shoes Made, Seeing 187 

Silk.... 4.4 

Silkworn), The 4:i.s 

Silkworm. The Goddess of the 4.1!) 

Silkwoim, The Life of a 4:)4 

Sleeping Apple. The 7 

Smith. Vulcan the Mighty 20t; 

Snowflakes 220 

Solomon and the Bees 3B0 

Some Common Butterflies .306 

Song, An Autumn 48 

Song for Fni-bel's Birthday 281 

Sparrow. .lack and Jenny 285 

Sparrow's Nest, The 300 

Speckle, The Story of 3;^7 

Spotty's Family 146 

Spring 263 

Spring and her Helpers 265 

S(iuirre s, The Thrifty. 101 

Stars, The Moon and the 401 

Stickleback, Mr 247 

Stony and Rocky , 2.30 

Stories, Cotton Field 421 

Story, An AlUthe Year-Round \Xi 

Story, A True Pigeon 81 

Story of a Breeze, The 3'X) 

Story of a Dog, A True 180 

Story of Echo, The 2.57 

Story of a Morning-glory Seed, The. . . 399 

Story of Speckle, The 337 

Story, Sequel to an Old 419 

Story, The Boston Thanksgiving 93 

Story, The Go-Sleep 115 

Story the Milk Told me. The 160 

Story, The "Wake Up 113 

St. Valentine's Day 191 

Such a Beauty 317 

Suggestions 213 

Summer 379 

Sun, The Wind and the 396 

Sunbeams, The .398 

Sunshine.. 3i3 

Surprise, A 274 

Surprise, The Maple Tree's 259 



ALPHABETICAL INDEX. 



443 



Tail, The Cow that Lost Her 161 

Talk, A Barnyard 324 

Task, Psyche's 57 

Teddy's Birthday Cake 88 

Thanks, How Patty Gave 94 

Thanks. To Whom shall we Give ai9 

Thanksgiving Day 90 

Thanksgiving Story, The Boston. 93 

They Did, What 371 

Thoughts, Bird 16 

Thrifty Squirrels, The 101 

Touch, The Golden 213 

To Whom shall we Give Thanks ? 219 

Trees 253 

Tree. The 259 

Trees, The Four Apple 256 

Tree's Surprise, The Maple 259 

Trousers, John's 410 

True Pigeon Story, A 81 

True Story of a Dog, A 180 

Two Shoes, Goody 184 

Valentine, Philip's 191 

Valentine's Day, St 191 

Visit to the Weaver's, A 408 

Vulcan the Mighty Smith 206 

Wait and See 7 

Wake rp Story, The 113 



Washington's Birthday 197 

Water, 1 216 

Water. II 237 

Waterbloom, The «» 

Water Wheel, The Brook and the 237 

Weaver, A Visit to the 408 

Weaver, The 407 

West Wind Helped Dandelion, How. • 63 

What the Clock Told Dolly 36 

What They Did 371 

Willow, Pussy 262 

Wind, The 62 

Wind at Play, Korth 71 

Wind and the Sun, The 396 

Wind Helped Dandelion, How West. . 65 

Winds, Odysseus and the Bag of 69 

Winds, The Meeting of the 269 

Winter 98 

Winter Clothes, The Baby Buds' 47 

Wise Old Horse, A 151 

Wood 17 

Woodman, The Honest 22 

Wool 413 

Work, Jack Frost and His 104 

Worm, The Little 278 

Year, The New 131 

Yellow-wing, Little 288 



